The Autumn Wind's Song
by Okaeri-Kairi
Summary: A series of short stories for Chrobin Week 2016, all collected in one place. Each story is inspired by and titled with a line from a different song by a different artist.
1. Discord

**Day 1: Coming of Age**

 **Song: Ane Mone by LAMA**

* * *

Chrom can't believe what he's hearing. He stares open-mouthed at his father, trying to process the information he's been given, and finds that no matter how hard he tries, he can't wrap his head around it.

"Chrom, are you listening?" his father asks sternly. He's still a rather young man, despite having fathered three children. His blue eyes glint with life and energy, and though he looks ready to scold his only son for not paying attention, his expression is more concerned than angry.

"I'm... sorry?" Chrom says, bewildered. He stopped listening the moment his father began to talk about a marriage with Plegia. _His_ marriage, to be exact.

"Did you hear _anything_ I said?" his father sighs. Chrom slowly shakes his head, feeling like he must be in a bad dream. The king rubs his temples tiredly. "I know it's difficult to take in-"

 _Difficult?! DIFFICULT?! This is impossible!_

"You've been raised your whole life to think of Plegia as the enemy, I understand it must be a shock. Your mother and I had our reservations as well, but the death of the old king of Plegia has changed everything. The new king and queen are not at all like their predecessors; they want peace between us. Plegia has fallen on hard times, and they can't afford to have bad relations with their neighbors, so they're using the oldest diplomatic tactic in the book; they're sending out their child to marry into our family."

"But Father, Plegian problems are none of our concern! Why are we-"

"You're wrong. Plegian problems are just as important to us as they are in Plegia proper. A kingdom in a state of unease can easily turn to war for resources. We're their closest neighbor; who do you think they will pillage if they decide their survival requires bloodshed?"

"So let's fight them! Isn't that what we've always done?!" Chrom cries, feeling desperate. His father takes his shoulder firmly.

"War is not a game, Chrom. We've fought in the past because Plegia was always against peace, no matter what we tried to alleviate the situation. Both sides suffered when we clashed, no matter who ultimately won the battle. But now things are different; Plegia is asking for peace, and if they mean to keep it, your mother and I mean to honor it."

"But why does it have to be _me?"_ he asks bitterly, aware that he sounds like the child he always denies he is.

"Plegia's king has only one child, a daughter, and I'm afraid the only one of _my_ children eligible to wed a princess is you, my son."

"I'm only fifteen, I'm not old enough to be married!" Chrom argues, but he knows it's a feeble argument. His father ruffles his hair, a sad smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, Chrom. But part of growing up a prince is that there are sacrifices you must make for your country, no matter how much you don't want to. When you turn sixteen in five months time, you'll have to play your part for your people, just like countless princes and princesses have done before you."

* * *

Since he was a boy, Chrom has dreamed of adventure and glory. He's read countless adventure books, knows of every Ylissean hero, has spent years learning the sword. He dreams of fighting hordes of Plegian bandits singlehandedly and coming out victorious with nary a scratch. He's dreamt of one day becoming a great king, known throughout the land for his courage and prowess on the battlefield. He'll have squires and duels and his life will never be dull, or so he'd thought. In one stroke of bad luck, it seems he's lost the chance to do any of that.

Instead, he'll be marrying a stranger and forced to become _domestic_ , like his older sister Emmeryn had been when she was wed to the ruler of some small kingdom across the sea. For some reason, he's always thought that arranged marriages were only for princesses; it had never struck him that princesses were generally married to _princes_ , and that those princes probably had as much say in who they ended up married to as a rock had when someone decided to pick it up and throw it in a lake.

 _I'd rather be thrown in a lake, actually,_ he thinks, picking at his plate during dinner. It's two days before the Plegian princess arrives in Ylisstol, and Chrom feels that the past few months have passed by entirely too fast. If he didn't think so before, he's convinced now that the world has something against him.

"Chrom, please, don't play with your food," his mother scolds. She's been breathing down his neck for weeks now, trying to get him to behave in as princely a manner as possible so as to impress the Plegians. Chrom has been sabotaging her attempts to make him behave at every opportunity, though doing so does nothing to delay the princess' arrival.

"Hmm," he responds moodily, but he continues to twirl his fork around aimlessly. Lissa giggles from her seat next to him.

"Lissa, don't encourage him," their father says, every bit the regal king as he gives them a stern frown.

"But it's funny," Lissa says, giving her older brother a sly glance. "The Plegians are going to think we brought in some common boy to replace Chrom," she smirks.

"Lissa!" the queen says, stricken. "Don't let me hear you saying anything of the sort near the Plegians; tensions are high enough without making them doubt that we're keeping our end of the bargain."

"It's not my fault he's being _difficult_ ," she complains, muttering. She goes back to her meal quietly.

"You'd be _difficult_ too, if you were being married off against your will!" Chrom growls, pointing his fork accusingly at her.

"You're an idiot, of course I'm going to be married off; that's what it means to be a princess. You're just so wrapped up in your delusions of grandeur that you never thought it would happen to you too," she sniffs, sticking her tongue out at him.

"That's enough, you two," the king says, his voice commanding. "Take a leaf out of your sister's book; Emmeryn accepted her duties with grace and dignity. You need to prove to your people that you're worthy of your title," he said, his sharp eyes gazing at Chrom. The boy looks away, unnerved.

The queen gives an exasperated sigh. Emmeryn was her favorite, Lissa and Chrom both know it. Now that she's gone, it's been much harder to keep the younger two in check, a fact that the prince and princess use to their advantage. Still, the queen tries her best to keep the peace in the castle, even if no one else cooperates much.

"Chrom, no one goes into marriage fully prepared," his mother says kindly, reaching out to touch his hand. "Just keep in mind, your bride is being married off too, and unlike you, she's being sent to live in a foreign land with a bunch of strangers. She'll be lonely and scared; are you really so selfish that you're going to make it worse for her?"

Chrom suddenly feels ashamed. He hasn't thought of it like this; he's been so worried about himself that he's been thinking of the princess as his enemy, not as someone going through the same thing as him.

"No," he admits. "I'll... I'll try my best to be good to her," he says nervously. His mother smiles at him.

"Start by being her friend, Chrom. Everything else will follow."

* * *

He can't help fidgeting as he waits for the carriage to arrive in front of the castle gates. His butler, Frederick, keeps hissing at him to stand still, but Chrom feels like he's going to mess everything up as soon as she steps out.

 _My palms are all sweaty, and I can't feel my legs! I'm going to throw up... Oh gods, let it be over already!_

But the more he wishes for it to be over, the slower it seems to take. He nervously adjusts his sword belt and surreptitiously wipes his hands on his tunic.

At last, after what seems like an eternity, they see the carriage coming up the road. Chrom's heart pounds in his mouth, and Frederick nudges him viciously in the back, prompting him to fix his posture before the horses come to a stop in front of them.

A man with narrow eyes hops down from the driver's seat. There's an eerie smile on his face, though his large-brimmed hat covers most of it. He bows to Chrom and his escort, then neatly opens the door of the carriage and stands aside.

A young woman with black hair, perhaps only a year or two his elder, disembarks first. She looks bored and unimpressed, and Chrom assumes it must be her; he's about to step forward when Frederick pinches his arm. He takes another look and sees he's almost made a mistake. She's dressed too modestly for a princess coming to her wedding, and there's an almost sinister, unsavory feeling about her. She joins the coachman, and Chrom has to admit that so far, the Plegians seem to adhere to their dark image.

Then, a second girl steps out. Chrom can't see her face, she's wearing a hood over her head and she's looking down at her feet as she climbs down the steps. Unlike the other two Plegians, she's dressed in brighter colors; Her cloak is a dark, rich blue, and her simple dress is light purple, like lavender. There's gold embroidery on both. She's not as tall as him, though she's definitely taller than Lissa, at least. She looks around for a moment, then notices Chrom and his men waiting just ahead. Her hands reach up to pull the hood away from her face.

The Ylisseans all gasp, horrified. She's quite pretty; she has dark red hair the color of an anemone, a small braid tied into the rest of her short plait, and inquisitive brown eyes. Her nose is rather broad but it fits her rounded face well, and her mouth is small but full, so that she looks a bit like a doll. But all that childish prettiness means nothing, because tattooed across her cheeks on each side are two pairs of cruel, sharp eyes, each set joined by a line all the way back up to her own eyelids. Chrom immediately recognizes the image as Grima's sign, the brand of the fell dragon god that Plegia has worshiped for generations and which stands for everything that Ylisse's god, Naga, opposes.

Several of Chrom's men immediately hiss and make a warding sign over their hearts; even Chrom, who isn't particularly religious, feels his stomach drop. The tattoos give his bride a foreboding look, as if those extra pairs of eyes have a life of their own and might begin moving at any moment.

 _That's not a girl, that's a demon!_

He almost steps back, but Frederick nudges him forward.

 _"Milord, go, greet her!"_ he hisses in his ear, and Chrom has no choice but to move toward her.

"W-welcome to Ylisstol, Princess," he says, holding out his hand. He knows his voice sounds shaken, but he tries to smile anyway. It comes out as a grimace.

For a moment, she doesn't move. Her eyes take him in from head to foot, and when she finally looks him in the eye (that stare is incredibly unnerving), he can tell she's not at all pleased by what she sees. Her lips press into a thin line and she accepts his hand.

"It's a pleasure," she says dully. Her voice is surprisingly normal; Chrom half expected a witch's cackle. She hardly looks at him again after that, as if she can't stand the sight of him.

 _Tch, is that the kind of attitude you're gonna have? Fine, I can be petty too._

All his thoughts of befriending her are thrown right out the window.

* * *

His mother and father are not surprised at the princess' appearance. They were warned ahead of time, by letter.

"We weren't told _where_ the poor girl had been branded, but we knew she'd have Grima's mark," his mother says when he storms into her room and demands an explanation. "It's a rite of passage for all Plegian royalty to be marked when they turn 14. Just like _you_ were branded with Naga's mark when you were at that age," she says pointedly, referring to the tattoo on his shoulder.

"Yes, but this is different! She looks like a demon!"

"Chrom!" the queen scolds. "We didn't raise you to be so shallow! She didn't ask to be branded, just like she didn't ask to be sent here for you."

"Well I don't _want_ her," he huffs. "Her face aside, she's so stuck up! The whole time I was showing her around, she kept making this dissatisfied gesture with her nose, and she clearly doesn't want to have anything to do with me. She and her creepy servants were mocking us, I caught them at it when I went back to her room to drop off a book. She's not interested in being here, she's definitely not interested in being friendly."

His mother sighs. "You always wanted an adventure, didn't you? Now you have one; no one said you were going to get along right away, so you'll just have to keep trying your best, Chrom. An easy adventure isn't one worth having, after all."

* * *

Robin hates this place. She was against coming here in the first place, but she has no choice. When her parents informed her that she would be sent off to marry an Ylissean prince, all she could do was accept, even if she couldn't believe they would do this to her. After all, Ylisse was their country's sworn enemy; hadn't her father always called them an ungodly, barbarian people?

But everything had changed when her grandfather died. Suddenly, her parents were the king and queen, and the country they inherited was much less stable than they'd believed. The people didn't care for the royal family, and there was famine and poverty everywhere. Rebellion was imminent, and the King and Queen had no one to turn to but their neighbors for assistance. As a gesture of goodwill, Robin had been packed up and shipped away; she had been expecting this her whole life, but she would never have believed that they would give her away to an Ylissean, much less this half-grown princeling.

In truth, Robin had liked the look of him when she first stepped out of her carriage. He looked nervous, but there was kindness and sincerity in his eyes. She thought that perhaps they could get along, once they got used to the strange idea of being married to one another.

But then she removed her hood, and those hopes were dashed. He, like all the other Ylisseans, was horrified to see her face, and she knew in that moment that this boy cares nothing for her and her culture. He's just a shallow, spoiled child, and he was probably expecting a pretty little girl to keep like a toy in his nursery. Robin's pride is cut to shreds.

She isn't interested in playing house with Prince Chrom, but no matter her feelings, she can't fail her mission. Whatever she thinks of him and his silly country, she would never disappoint her parents when they're counting on her to protect Plegia.

With a heavy heart, she accepts the fate that's been given her, and less than a week after she arrives, she has to dutifully prepare herself for the worst day of her life.

"My poor princess," Tharja croons as she combs Robin's hair for the ceremony. "Imagine, our beloved robin, caught in that boy's cage! What I wouldn't give to rip his heart out through his mouth," she says, gently arranging Robin's red hair with a wrought golden pin.

"Now now, Tharja," Henry scolds, all smiles as always. "We're all friends here, idiots though these Ylisseans are. No murdering friends, weren't you taught that as a child?"

"Hmph, I have no friends," Tharja mutters, lining Robin's eyes carefully with a stick of charcoal. "And whatever I might do to the prince, he deserves it. Didn't you see the way he treated our little robin?"

"It's the brand," Robin says, her heart sinking. "He's not the only one; the entire entourage was uneasy because of it."

"The fools; don't they understand what an honor it is to carry Grima's divine mark?!"

"Of course not, they don't worship Grima here," Robin says, sighing. She wishes she was back home, where no one would dare ridicule something as sacred as Grima's brand... and where no one would judge her for carrying it on her face.

"Heretics, all of them," Henry says brightly, leaning back on the princess' duvet. "But oh well, what else did we expect from a country of barbarians?"

"Hush," Robin says. "Whatever we think about this place, it's still my new home, and we can't afford to antagonize the Ylisseans."

"Oh, if only we could take you back with us," Tharja sighs, holding out the bridal cape for her. "Leaving you here to fend by yourself is unbearably cruel," she says as she clasps the pin closed and steps back to admire the effect. Robin catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She's clad all in white, the traditional color of an Ylissean bride. She thinks it's a rather ghastly color.

But, the dress isn't too bad, she decides, other than the color. It isn't stuffy or unbearably tight, like she feared. It's loose and simple, the way she prefers her clothes, and there's no train to trip on, which is a plus. Tharja has plaited her hair lovingly to one side, so that her red locks are draped over her shoulder, adding a nice bit of color to the whole thing. Her tattoos are as eye-catching as ever, but there's nothing she could do to change that. She wouldn't if she could anyway.

She's quite pleased with the arrangement.

"Thank you, Tharja," she says, reaching to hug the older girl. Tharja is two years her elder, but she's been looking after her for as long as Robin can remember. She's the closest thing Robin has ever had to a sibling, and she's incredibly grateful that she's come with her to this godforsaken country to prepare her for this.

"Of course, little robin," Tharja says, embracing Robin tightly. "If only I could marry you and spirit you away instead!"

"You're so silly Tharja. You'd be executed in less than a minute. And, what, no hug for me, princess?" Henry asks, holding out his arms.

Robin giggles at the petulant look on his face. "Of course," she says, and obliges him. He plants a kiss on her forehead; like Tharja, he's been in Robin's service for many years, and though she was initially rather afraid of his unnerving smiles, he makes an excellent bodyguard. There are rumors in the palace that he's exceptionally skilled at dark magic. Robin doesn't doubt it, though she's never actually seen him use any. She's going to miss them both terribly.

"There," he says. "Now if that prince lays a finger on you when you don't want him to, you just remember your friend Henry and poof! The prince will be a frog! How's that for a wedding gift?" he grins.

"If it really works, it'll be the best gift ever." She can't help but smile in return.

"There we go, nice, big smile! Like you're going to tear him to pieces! He'll be terrified!"

"Henry, I'm not _supposed_ to terrify anyone today."

"Oh. Well in that case, forget I said anything."

There's a loud knock on the door.

"Princess, it's time." She recognizes her fiance's voice and all the fun in the room dissipates. She looks to Tharja and Henry one last time, and it dawns on her how final this moment is. After the ceremony, they will go back to Plegia, leaving her all alone. She may never see either of them again, and both of them look rather teary eyed now, even Henry.

"Goodbye," she chokes, and they both hurry to embrace her again. "I won't forget you," she whispers, willing the moment to last forever. She buries her face into their arms, fighting the urge to cry.

"May Grima watch over you, my little robin," Tharja says, and Henry touches her cheek gently.

"Go, be happy, princess."

But happiness is the last thing she feels as she trudges to the door to face her future.

* * *

Somehow, seeing her in her wedding attire only makes her look more alarming. The white color contrasts heavily with the reddish ink on her face, and he's fairly sure she's rimmed her eyes with charcoal for some reason. He wishes someone had had the sense to cover her tattoos with powder, at least for the ceremony, but it's too late now.

He stiffly takes her arm and escorts her downstairs in silence. He wants to say something, but he's at a loss for how to even begin chipping away at her armor. The minutes tick by, becoming more awkward by the second.

He clears his throat; he supposes has to start somewhere.

"You look, uhm, beautiful."

He sees her eyes flick toward him, but her face remains passive. She doesn't even bother to reply.

"A-are you nervous? I suppose you must be, it's a large ceremony, after all," he continues, trying to keep his nerve. _Does she have to look so damned displeased about everything?_

"No," she says briskly, but he doesn't believe it. Her arm is trembling slightly.

"You don't have to put on a brave face," he says, trying to be kind. "I know it's frightening, I feel the same way."

She stops dead on the stairs without warning, and Chrom nearly falls over.

"H-hey! Be careful!"

"Stop trying to pretend that you want to get along with me," she says, her eyes glinting dangerously.

"What?"

"I'm not an idiot," she says. "I saw the way you looked when you saw my tattoos; you think I'm a freak, and I can tell you were hoping for some demure little princess that you can bully around. _So_ sorry to be a disappointment, _Prince_ Chrom, but I'm neither of those things. You can pretend all you want, but I'm not interested in playing your game. We're being married against our will and I'm not going to pretend otherwise."

He stares at her incredulously.

"A pri- that I can bully around?!" he shouts, furious. "What the hell are you _talking_ about?! I've never bullied anyone in my life! All I wanted was to be friends!"

"Hah?! I doubt that!" she shouts back. "If you wanted to be friends, you wouldn't be so ready to judge! You don't know a thing about me!"

"Why do you think I'm trying now?! We're going to be married today whether we like it or not, so shouldn't we at least _attempt_ to get along?!"

"Why? You already know you don't like me, and I certainly don't like you, so why bother?!"

"Argh, you're _impossible!"_

"And you're insufferable!"

They glare at each other until finally Chrom huffs and holds out his arm again.

"Fine, whatever, I don't care. We still have to get this bloody thing over with, so hurry it up, will you?"

* * *

They make their way down the aisle, arm in arm, neither of them smiling. They go through the rites halfheartedly; they hold hands when asked, repeat everything back to the priest in monotone, and when they share from the cup of wine, they take the smallest, most hurried sips each.

"Prince Chrom, your vows," the priest says, and Chrom can feel his parents' eyes boring through him, begging him not to mess this up. He bites the inside of his cheek and takes Robin's hand, holding up one of the rings.

"With this, I ask that you become the blood of my blood. I give you myself, and the depths of my heart, so that two might become one. I give you the spirit bestowed to me by Naga's grace, so that we may be together until our lives are done," he recites, slipping the gold band around her finger. He hopes that's good enough for his father.

"Princess Robin, your vows." She reaches for the ring offered to her by the priest and takes Chrom's hand in turn.

"With this, I ask that you become the bone of my bone. I give you myself, and the depths of my heart, so that you may always have a place to call home. I give you the soul bestowed upon me by Grima's breath," (a chorus of murmurs breaks out and many of the guests make warding signs, but Robin ignores them), "so that we may be together and never alone." She half shoves the ring onto his finger, and Chrom winces.

"Very well," the priest nods. "Lord Chrom, do you promise to love and cherish the Lady Robin, to protect and defend her, to weather any storm in order to stay by her side, in sickness and in health, for as long as Naga's fire courses through your veins?"

 _Not if I had any choice in the matter, I wouldn't._

"I promise."

"Lady Robin, do you promise to love and cherish the Lord Chrom, to protect and defend him, to weather any storm in order to stay by his side, in sickness and in health, for as long as Naga's fire courses through your veins?"

Chrom privately thinks that she might scoff at the use of Naga's name, but she doesn't.

"I promise."

"With this, the ceremony is completed. By the gods and all the witnesses in this hall, you are now pronounced husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, my lord."

Chrom has been dreading this the most. He's never kissed anyone, much less a girl, and he has no idea what he's doing. Her tattoo is even eerier up close. He shuts his eyes so as not to see it and tries to make his best guess as to where her lips might be. He misses, though only slightly. He's brushed the side of her mouth, but it's over so quickly that no one seems to have noticed.

Except for Robin, of course. She gives him a rather triumphant look before turning away toward the crowd.

 _Why do I get the feeling that I'm never going to hear the end of this?_ he thinks, his heart sinking.

* * *

The rest of the day is a slog to get through. There are countless speeches and toasts, all of which become bawdier and more ridiculous as the adults get tipsier and tipsier. Chrom is the subject of every dirty joke in the hall, and Robin has never felt more embarrassed in her life. They sit next to each other at the head table, a measured distance between them, but as the afternoon wears on into evening, their rowdy neighbors have pushed them toward each other so that they're shoulder to shoulder.

If she could, Robin would love to push him away as forcefully as possible, but she's got other things to worry about. Though it's been forbidden by the king that anyone should heckle her for her religion, she's still receiving several slurs and unsavory comments, and they're only becoming worse as the atmosphere relaxes with drunkenness.

Someone shouts that the prince is wasted on her. "After all, them Grimleal cultists don't like their lovers breathing!" A howl of laughter echoes through the hall, and Robin clenches her fists tightly.

She's never realized how badly the Grimleal are viewed outside of Plegia; it's true that Plegians are rather well-versed in dark magic, but belief in Grima has nothing to do with these cruel, demented stereotypes. Grima is merely the god of endings; he is neither benevolent nor malevolent. Everything that begins and exists must come to an end, and the dragon stands for the concept of impermanence. Like each day ends, so too does each life, and Robin has been taught to cherish her time while she still has it. The idea that they worship death itself is appalling, but clearly the Ylisseans have no idea what the difference is.

"Best lock up the cemetery, milord! You don't want to find your lovely bride has found a better place to rest her weary bones," someone shouts at Chrom, and Robin feels a single tear streak down her nose.

She wipes it away immediately, the last thing she wants is for Chrom to see her crying.

"Princess?"

"What do you want?" she says coldly.

"Are you alright? You look pale."

"Leave me alone," she says, trying to pull away from him. There's not much space to do so, but he seems to take the hint.

"Fine. I know when I'm not wanted," he huffs, and returns to his cup of wine.

Something pushes her from behind, and she looks up to see a maid who's tripped over her chair.

"Oh, I'm so sorry princess," she says, but as soon as she turns around, Robin very clearly hears her add, "How far our kingdom has fallen. Our poor prince, saddled with a Plegian witch of all things..."

Robin feels her eyes sting. _It's not like I asked for these tattoos!_

"What a rude maid," Chrom says, and Robin whips around to see him glaring after the woman. "No matter what she thinks, she shouldn't be saying things like that out loud. I'll have a talk with father about her." He offers her a small smile, like a peace offering, and the gesture is enough to make the tears roll down her cheeks.

"Oh no, don't-" he fishes around in his pockets and hands her a handkerchief. "Don't listen to them," he adds, and to her surprise his voice is concerned. "They're just drunk and stupid, ignore them."

She's about to tell him to mind his own business when he suddenly stands up and places a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, let's get out of here for a bit. We'll get some fresh air," he says. She hesitates, but the thought of being left alone in this hellish hall is too unbearable. She takes his hand and they make their way out to the balcony and down the stairs to the gardens.

As soon as they're out of view she pulls away from him and sits down on a bench, miserable. He remains standing, and neither of them seem to know what to say.

"You know... I'm sorry. For everything they were saying," he mumbles, finally. "I'm guessing from your reaction that none of it is true."

"Of course not!" she cries, too upset to remember that she hates him. "How could you all believe such awful things! Being Grimleal doesn't make you a- a-"

"A witch? A necr-?" he offers, but she slams her hands on the cold stone bench, furious.

"Don't! How could anyone think that?!" she shouts.

"Look..." he sits down next to her. "Everyone is told that Grima and Naga are opposites."

"They _are_ ," Robin insists. "But that doesn't-"

"Right, but in Ylisse, Naga is the good half." He sighs and leans back on his arms, staring up at the evening stars. "Naga is the goddess of life and creation. If she created us all, then the opposite of that is Grima, who must be the god of death and destruction, right? To us, it looks like Plegians are obsessed with violence and death."

"We're not!"

"I don't really know," he says. "But that's the way everyone thinks about you here. It's just the way it is." He falls silent for a moment. "But you know, I think you're right; I _don't_ know anything about you or your country. I've just realized I only know what I've been told by Ylisseans." He turns to look at her. "But if that's true, isn't it fair to assume you don't know anything about us either?"

She opens her mouth to argue but realizes he has a point. _I never bothered to learn anything about Naga, not really. And I've always been told that Ylisse is a place of heretics and barbarians; I don't know a thing about their culture either._

"So, now that we've gotten _that_ out of the way," he says, blowing a stray lock of hair from his face, "why don't you tell me what being Grimleal really means, princess?"

"I have a name," she sighs, annoyed.

"No, you're right. Sorry, that was rude. Okay, let's start over." He holds out his hand. "Peace?"

She frowns; for some reason he looks genuinely interested. She really doesn't understand him at all.

"Fine, but only for a while." She shakes his hand.

* * *

He isn't as self-centered as she'd thought. He listens to everything she says and asks questions without patronizing her. He seems surprised to learn that everyone in Plegia knows how to take care of themselves because they've been at war for so long and it's a harsh place to live; he says he's been told it's in their nature to be violent and he's glad it's not true. He asks about whether it hurt to get her tattoos on her face, and if she wishes she'd been branded somewhere else.

"Sometimes," she admits. "Looking at yourself in the mirror can be kind of startling if you forget, and you tend to forget _a lot_ ," she says, wincing. "And I guess it unnerves people. Father always said I should be proud, that a princess should inspire respect, but it's not like _he_ was branded to look like he has six eyes."

"I hope you'll forgive me for being so narrow minded about it," Chrom apologizes. "To be honest, it freaked me out when I first saw you. I just wasn't expecting it."

"I understand. I'm sorry for saying you were ignorant."

"I was. I still am, more likely than not," he says, grinning slightly. "It will probably take me some time to get used to it, but I hope that's alright."

"Mm. It's fine now."

"Now?"

Robin blushes. "No, it's... it's nothing."

"Come on, I thought we were being honest?"

"Only until the party is over," she mutters.

"Sure, but it's _not_ over," he says, and in the short silence, the sound of music streams across the grass toward them. "Tell me? Please?"

"It... it... kind of hurt my feelings," she says, so quietly he can barely hear. "You looked like you'd seen a monster... I... It hurt, seeing the person I'm supposed to marry look at me like that."

"Oh." He looks pained, and Robin is immediately sorry she said anything.

"It doesn't matter now-"

"It _does_ matter. But... I don't think you look like a monster, not anymore. Actually, I think you're very pretty... Robin."

It's the first time he's used her name, and for some reason the sound of it makes her skin tingle.

"W-what? Don't say something so stu-" She stops dead in the middle of her sentence; he's reached out to touch her cheek. His thumb rubs against one of the eyes on the tattoo gently.

"It's not stupid, I mean it. And the mark isn't really that frightening, now that I know what it represents. In fact, the more I get to know you, the more I think it suits you. It's fierce, and interesting, like the girl under the ink."

In the dim moonlight, she can see that he's turned rather red, though he hasn't looked away from her once.

"S-stop it," she says, but her voice seems to have lost its volume. He's way too close now, her heart is thundering in her ears.

"I messed up the kiss this morning," he says softly. "Would it be okay if I did it again?"

She wants to shake her head and tell him that no, of course he can't, but instead she finds herself nodding slowly, and before she knows it his hands are cupping her face and she's closing her eyes of her own will.

Unlike the kiss during the ceremony, this one is warm and gentle, and Robin thinks it will be a shame when he finally decides to pull away.

* * *

They sneak back into the party just before it ends; it turns out that no one has noticed they've been missing at all, but of course now that they're visible again, the catcalls and jeers return in full force.

"Enough," the king finally commands. The whole hall falls silent. He's red in the face, but his balance is still perfect. If Chrom didn't know any better, he'd assume that his father hadn't had more than a couple of drinks. In truth, he's probably emptied half the wine cellar on his own. He gives Lissa a knowing look across the table and his sister stifles a giggle.

"Before we retire for the night, I thank you all for attending this most joyous occasion. I ask that we have one final toast." His father picks up his wine glass and holds it up. "To Plegia and Ylisse, bound together at last!"

"To Plegia and Ylisse!"

"To my son, Chrom, and his wife, Lady Robin! May they have many prosperous years ahead of them!"

"To Prince Chrom and Princess Robin!"

Everyone drinks deeply, and Chrom and Robin avoid each others' eyes, their faces red.

"Now," the king says, and Chrom notices a rather mischievous glint in his eye.

 _Oh no._

"To bed with you!"

The whole hall stands up, and Chrom feels his blood go cold. _I... I forgot!_ He steals a panicked glance at Robin and finds that she's white as a sheet, her tattoos resplendent against her pale skin.

Frederick pulls Chrom from his seat, and one of the maids does the same for Robin. He looks at his parents, but his father is laughing heartily and his mother merely gives him an apologetic shrug. Lissa looks like her birthday has come early.

* * *

Thankfully, the crowd won't be allowed into their bedroom, though it's still torture to have them follow all the way upstairs. The men pat Chrom on the back and tell him that this is the moment he'll become a man, while the women clasp Robin's hands and assure her everything will be alright, and it will likely be over before she knows it. This sets everyone laughing again, and Chrom can only wish with all his heart that he could melt right into the wooden floor.

Finally, they're pushed into the room and the door locked behind them. They stand there, utterly mortified, trying to look anywhere but at the large canopied bed or at each other.

"Th-the tr-truce is off," Robin stutters.

"De-definitely," he agrees.

"I-I'm going to sl-sleep," she says, walking stiffly over to the bed and finding her nightgown folded neatly on the covers. She looks at him, obviously panicking. "Turn around!" she commands, her voice rather shrill, and it doesn't cross his mind to disobey. He holds his hands over his eyes for good measure.

He can hear her undressing, but tries very _very_ hard not to think about it.

"Ca-can I look y-yet?"

"No!"

"Now?"

"...O-okay."

He turns to find that she's already hidden herself in the covers, and he breathes a sigh of relief. He pulls off his own clothes and slips into his tunic, then blows the candles out.

"Don't worry, I won't do anything to you if you don't want me to," he says quietly as he sits on the edge of the bed. He doesn't know if he wants her to say yes; he's afraid that he won't know what to do if she does, and just a bit panicked to think he'll have to sleep next to her all night, being extra careful not to alarm her if she doesn't.

"P-promise?" she asks, her voice barely higher than a whisper. She peeks over the covers, her brown eyes glinting in the faint light from the window.

"Yeah. I promised to protect and cherish you, didn't I?" he says. She's kind of cute, like a little cat.

"Good, because you'll turn into a frog if you do," she says suddenly.

"W-what?!"

She's smiling, he can see it in her eyes, but he's not sure if she's being serious or not.

"Well, even if that's true, I won't turn into one, because I won't lay a finger on you. Prince's honor," he says, crossing his heart.

There's a soft, warm sound, and he realizes she's laughing. He's never heard such a nice laugh before.

"That's a shame, I really like frogs." She turns her back to him, leaving him completely bewildered.

 _Wait, was that a yes, or a no?!_

He groans and gets into bed, feeling like this is just the beginning of a very long, very complicated relationship. But while before that thought filled him with dread, now he's thinking that it might not be so bad, having a partner to share this adventure with.

He feels something warm press against his back and a tug at his shirt; she's holding on to his clothes, and he can't help his heart pounding a bit faster at the innocent gesture.

"G-goodnight, Robin."

"Goodnight, Chrom... S-see you in the morning."

* * *

 ** _"We met on a day of anemones  
_ **

**_I still remember, with excitement_ **

**_We deliberately missed each other_  
**

 **_The time wasn't right, let's wait a bit more."_**


	2. How Much More

**Day 2: Branded & Marked**

 **Song: How Much More by Stars**

* * *

The woman stands alone in a field strewed with the dead. She doesn't move, just takes a slow, deep breath, savoring the rich smell of blood in the air. It's an intoxicating scent, sharp as iron and still fresh. She looks down and sees that her hands are covered in gore. She inspects her palms, half-interested, and licks the blood from her fingers with relish.

It's been a while since anyone was stupid enough to come looking for her. She thought she'd eradicated all the humans in the area, but she supposes a few may have avoided her attention. They must have thought a surprise attack would be enough to take her down. They learned their lesson the hard way.

She kicks aside a corpse, looking down at the victim's face with mild curiosity. It's a girl, hardly older than a child, and there's blood dripping from her open mouth. She looks familiar for some reason, though Grima could care less. Humans mean nothing to her anymore; that part of her is gone now. She may dwell in a human body, but only because she requires a vessel. If she had a choice, she would have left it long ago.

She moves on, but something on the ground catches her eye. There's something shining there, at her feet, and Grima stoops to pick it up.

It's a ring, made of silver. Grima turns it over in her hands and the light catches a faint engraving on the inside. It's been worn away, probably from use, but she can still just make out the words.

 _Cord. et Stahl_.

"Ah," Grima says softly to herself. That's why the child was so familiar; that red hair can only have come from Cordelia. "Foolish girl," she scoffs, meaning to drop the ring and move on. But when she opens her hand, she finds she's still clinging to it.

 _It's just a useless human memento. Why would I want it?_ she thinks, but still, she can't throw it away.

She stares at it for a moment, then pockets it.

She had a ring like that, once. A long time ago, when she still went by another name.

* * *

 **He was awkward, not at all like a prince should be. It took him ages to get to the point, and when he did, it was still the most roundabout conversation Robin had ever had.**

 **"Pr-prepare yourself, I'm going to say it!"**

 **"So just say it already!" she exclaimed, her heart pounding in her chest. "You can't leave me hanging after saying something like that!"**

 **"A-alright... Here goes... Robin... I'm in love with you."**

 **Robin suddenly had trouble breathing.**

 **"...O-oh." Her heart ached, and she felt like crying. She didn't know it was possible to feel so many things at once.**

 **"I know it's sudden, but I've loved you for a long time..."**

 **"Chrom, stop, we can't-"**

 **"I know it's improper; you're my tactician, but I can't help the way I feel."**

 **"Please Chrom, you're making this harder for both of us," she said, closing her eyes tightly. "We can't, we're at war."**

 **"Then... what about once we've won?"**

 **She looked up at him. He was red as a beet, but his eyes were saddened at her vehement rejection.**

 **"I understand if you don't want to, of course," he added hurriedly, waving his hands. "But, if you feel the same way, even just a little, would you at least... consider it?"**

 **"Chrom..."**

 **"Please, just think about it." He reached into his cloak and pulled out a silver ring. "Take it, it's yours. You can do whatever you like with it. Sell it if you want. But promise me you won't until we've won this war. You can give me your answer then," he said, and before she could argue, he took her hand and pressed the ring into her palm.**

 **He left her standing there, clutching the ring to her chest and feeling like a whirlwind of emotions had ravaged her heart.**

* * *

The wind blows strongly, buffeting Grima's red hair across her face. Though she's been called a god, the weather isn't something she can control, exactly. She can make it overcast, she can blot out the sun, but everything else is up to nature. Still, such mundane things don't bother her. She doesn't feel the cold like her human self did.

The ruins are as foreboding as ever. It's been many years since these piles of dilapidated stone and wood could be called a castle, though Grima has memories of a time when it still stood proud as the center of Ylisstol. She likes it much better this way.

"Mother!"

Grima grits her teeth. She'd half-hoped that it would have left while she was gone, but of course it hasn't. It's still there, with that stupid, eager look on its face, climbing over a pile of rubble to greet her.

"Mother, welcome back!"

"I told you not to call me that," Grima hisses, but the child pays no notice. He comes right up to her and takes her hand, bold as ever. If it were anyone else, Grima would have blasted a hole through him before he could lay his dirty hands on her. If it were anyone else, she would have never let him stay. But it isn't anyone else, and Grima hasn't been able to get rid of him for years.

"Did you bring me something, Mother?" he asks, his blue eyes wide and expectant. Grima sighs and pulls a hefty slice of bread from her pocket; she took it from one of the corpses in the prairie. She rips off a hunk and tosses it to him, and he catches it with delight, digging in immediately. Grima sits on a low wall, imagining all the ways she might kill him if she could just make herself do it. She's tired of playing house with him; he's no more useful than a stray dog, brand or no brand.

* * *

 **Time seemed to race by. Days, weeks, months... But Chrom kept his promise. He didn't bring it up at all, didn't ask if she'd changed the way she felt. It made Robin feel anxious; she wondered if maybe he hadn't forgotten, or changed his mind. She wondered if she shouldn't have said yes, like he so obviously wished she had.**

 **Like she so obviously wanted to.**

 **She put his ring on a chain and wore it around her neck. No one could see it under her coat, but she could feel it pressed against her heart. If she died in battle, she wanted to be found with it, so that he would know that she returned his feelings, even if she lost the opportunity to tell him directly.**

 **But the closer they got to the end, the more Robin feared not telling him the truth. She'd long accepted the possibility of her own death, but she couldn't bear the thought of losing** ** _him_** **, especially not before she could tell him how she felt. She refused to let that become a possibility.**

 **"Chrom..."**

 **"Robin! What is it? It's late." He was reading a book at his table, the candle already melted halfway.**

 **"There's something I want to talk about..."**

 **She didn't go back to her tent that night.**

* * *

The child has fallen asleep in one of the rooms that isn't as badly damaged. He's thrown himself on the stone floor with nothing but a ragged blanket, and Grima has to fight the urge to pick him up and put him on the old mattress instead.

 _What do I care if the little creature is comfortable?_ she thinks coldly, and turns away from him. She places the rest of the bread on the table and pulls her coat on. There's no point in staying now that the boy is fed, so she might as well leave. She reaches into her pocket absentmindedly and her fingers brush against the ring. She's almost forgotten about it. She pulls it out and holds it up to the faint light.

 _What ever happened to my ring?_ she wonders. Almost immediately, she shakes her head. _No, I'm confusing myself for the other one._

She turns to put Cordelia's ring on the table as well, but she catches a flash of blue from the corner of her eye.

 _Ch-Chrom?!_

It's not him. It's only the boy; he's shifted in his sleep, his hair catching the light. Grima chides herself for being so stupid.

 _Of course it's not Chrom. Chrom is long dead._

But as she leaves the room, there's a painful knot in her throat that refuses to go away.

* * *

 **Robin traced her fingers over the Brand on his shoulder.**

 **"Is it that interesting?" he asked, stifling a yawn. He was lying on his stomach, blinking sleepily at her.**

 **"Mmm, you say it's not a tattoo?" she asked, resting her cheek on her palm.**

 **"No, I was born with it. Everyone in the royal family has one; except for Lissa."**

 **"How come?"**

 **"Sometimes it just doesn't show up. It happens. Why are you so interested?"**

 **"No reason really. I just assumed it was a tattoo when I first saw it, like mine." She held up her left hand so he could see the reddish mark on the back.**

 **"Hmm, well I don't know what that's supposed to be."**

 **"Neither do I," she said, shrugging. "Amnesia, remember?" She grinned at the bad joke.**

 **"Haha, funny." He sat up and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'd rather remember this instead," he said, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck.**

 **"Again?" she teased, pushing him away playfully. "I thought you said you were tired?"**

 **"I was, but not anymore," he said seriously. "How could I stay tired when you're still here?"**

 **"But I already told you I wasn't going anywhere," she said, shivering as he ran his fingers down her back.**

 **"I know." She quickly lost count of how many times he kissed her.**

* * *

Grima had intended to leave the ruin, but something is keeping her there. She wanders through the halls, touching broken balustrades, looking at half-rotting paintings on the walls, lost in thoughts she wasn't aware she still possessed.

After some time, she reaches the throne room. The ornate chairs are falling apart, the carpet at her feet dirty and ragged.

 _This is where they got married,_ she recalls. It was shortly after the war that Chrom brought Robin home and wed her in this very room. It had been a small ceremony, but the entire halidom celebrated the king's wedding for days. Grima recalls her other self dancing down this length of carpet, recalls laughing and drinking with Robin's friends until everyone was so tipsy that they could barely stand at all. She remembers Chrom, his smile bright, using any excuse to hold Robin's hand or kiss her cheek.

They'd lived in this castle for a few years, before war broke out again. Lucina was born here, and raised here, though Robin herself never had a chance to see that. Grima did, though the girl was spirited from the castle by her caretakers before she could be rid of her.

She's reached the thrones themselves. Only the queen's seat is still intact, and Grima sits down, looking down at the ruined hall below her.

This is her own throne, but it seems somehow lonelier than she remembers.

* * *

 **"CHROM!"**

 **She fell to her knees at his side, trembling. The wound was terrible; a large, gaping hole through his abdomen.**

 **"Ro-Ro...bin..."**

 **"No, Chrom! Don't speak! Y-you'll be alright, I promise!" She was hyperventilating, her cheeks wet with tears.**

 **"Ro...bin... don't... cry... it's not... not your... fault," he stuttered. He reached his hand toward her face, but he seemed to be having trouble judging the distance. Robin took it and held it tightly.**

 **"Chrom, don't leave me, please, please don't go!" she cried, pressing her lips to his hand. "I'm so sorry, I never meant-"**

 **"I... know... I know it... wasn't... love..." The words died on his lips and his eyes lost their shine. They would never again hold her gaze.**

 **Robin screamed, but the sound that came from her mouth was more akin to laughter than grief.**

 _ **I've won, foolish girl. I am the Fell Dragon Grima, and you have lost.**_

* * *

 **That was her greatest triumph... but Grima had made a miscalculation. She'd meant to take over from there, to finally take the girl's body, her vessel, for her own designs. But Robin, though lost in grief for some time, was not done fighting.**

 **Not long after Chrom's death, Robin somehow gathered her strength and regained control, and Grima was forced to return to her subconscious for some time. She was completely unaware of what her other self was doing until suddenly, without warning, she was back.**

 **It was such a shock that Grima didn't immediately register the state of Robin's body or her surroundings. But a moment later a horrible, piercing wail went through her eardrums like lightning and she felt a terrible aching pain all over her body.**

 ** _What in the-?!_**

 **She was covered in blood, and something else, something wet and slimy and unpleasant. From the look of it, she was in a hut somewhere, alone, and the source of the sound was a newborn infant, bloodied and still attached to its umbilical cord.**

 ** _That woman!_** **Grima had had no idea that Robin had been pregnant at all, but this was undoubtedly Chrom's child; its hair was the same shade of blue. On the back of one tiny hand, Naga's brand was visible.**

 ** _HOW DARE SHE HIDE THIS FROM ME?!_** **she thought, raising her hand to kill the disgusting creature where it lay. But before she could utter the incantation, something else caught her eye; though one of its hands was Branded, the other was Marked.**

 **That was a shock. Lucina had been born with only a Brand, as normal. It was impossible for one person to carry the blessings of two gods, and yet here was Robin's second child, unmistakably branded by both herself and Naga.**

 ** _What does this mean?!_**

 ** _"I don't... know... but it means...it means... you can't hurt him."_** **Robin's voice was still there, in the back of Grima's mind. But though she was clearly using every last ounce of her remaining strength to stay conscious, her voice was fading fast.** ** _"Even if I... disappear here, I won't... ever... let you hurt... him."_**

 ** _Hah, you truly think I can't kill him when it pleases me?!_**

 ** _"You won't... lay... a finger... on Morgan... I won't... let you..."_** **But her energy was spent, and Grima was finally rid of the woman, for good.**

* * *

However, Robin spoke true. Grima has tried everything to kill or abandon the boy, but she physically cannot. Something drives her to keep him near, to care for him and raise him, though she can't stand even looking at him. He's the spitting image of Chrom, and it fills her with rage and hate to be unable to end his pitiful little life.

She contents herself with hoping that one day she might use him. Surely he hasn't been Marked for nothing; when he's old enough, perhaps he'll help her destroy the last bits of resistance still lingering in the world. Lucina is still alive somewhere, and Grima can't think of a better revenge against Robin's curse than to have her children, Chrom's beloved children, fight each other to the death. Until then, she'll play Robin's perverse game; she'll play mother to the boy, but only until she's made him into a tool worthy of Grima's name.

 _I refuse to let that woman have her way._

"Mother..."

She's pulled from her thoughts to see the child, Morgan, standing at her knee. He must have woken up at some point and come looking for her.

"What do you want?" she asks, annoyed.

"You left this," he says, and holds up the silver ring.

"It's not mine," she says curtly.

"But-"

"Leave it, it's worthless," she said sharply.

Morgan looks at the ring and back at his mother again, but she cuts him off before he can ask a question.

"Come, we're going." She stands up and holds out her hand for him, a stiff, brusque gesture. But though she doesn't want to even look at him, the moment when those small fingers wrap around her own is comforting. She finds she wants to pick him up and bury her face in that familiar, soft hair...

But she won't. Those feelings aren't hers, she doesn't want them. Though Robin is gone, they just won't disappear. It's as if her ghost still lurks somewhere within their shared body, still trying to remember.

 _How much more of this torment will she inflict on me?_ she thinks angrily. Grima doesn't understand why the emotions won't fade, no matter how much time passes. Chrom is dead, after all, and Robin is little more than a memory. So why is everything still so vivid?

Why can't she forget him?

* * *

Morgan takes his mother's hand, but though she ordered him to, he doesn't let go of the ring. He found it on the ground, not far from him, when he woke up. He's never seen anything so pretty. It's made of silver and shines brightly in the light.

If he could read, he'd probably be interested to know that two initials are carved on the inside. He'd probably want to hear the stories of the two people who exchanged this ring and its brother, and he'd ask what happened to them, why they abandoned such an important memento.

But Morgan hasn't been taught how to read, so he doesn't realize that the ring is engraved for _C & R. _He doesn't know that his mother, his real mother, lost it in that room many years ago, when she came to search for Lucina. He doesn't, and never will know, that _C & R _stands for more than just his parents' names, or that the bond they shared is what protects him from the wrath of the woman who has raised him, the woman who was once his mother, and who still is, somewhere deep inside.

What Morgan does know is that he likes the ring, so he decides to keep it. He slips it into his pocket and lets his mother lead him away.

* * *

 _ **"Is this the story or is this the end?**_

 _ **I always kill your shadow but here we are again."**_

 ** _"My hands are tied because I can't say goodbye_**

 _ **I tried... I told you I was brave but I lied."**_


	3. August Serenade

**Day 3: Dancing**

 **Song: Hachigatsu no Serenade by Suga Shikao  
**

* * *

"Robin!"

A young woman with dark red hair looked up from her list of inventory, her thoughts still revolving around tomes and shields. It took a moment for her to realize she was being called.

"Oh, Chrom! What is it?" she said, smiling at the captain of the Shepherds. She was pleased to see him, as usual.

He returned the smile. "Did you need any help with that?" he asked, pointing at the barrels full of newly delivered equipment.

"With the inventory? Don't you have anything more important to do?" she said, looking back down at her list and crossing out an item with her quill.

"Don't _you?_ Last time I checked, you were our tactician, not in charge of the armory."

"Kellam was supposed to take care of it, but we haven't seen him for days," Robin replied, counting out axes.

"Again?!"

"I don't know how he does it, he really should become a spy instead of a knight."

Chrom laughed, and Robin felt her heart skip a beat. His laugh was her favorite sound in the world.

"Well, if he turns up I'll tell him our tactician has a new role for him. Should I sort out the weapons by grade?" he asked, taking a look at the nearest barrel.

"If you really have nothing better to do..."

"I don't."

"Be my guest," she said. She tried to act as nonchalantly as possible, but it was hard to keep a level head while he worked next to her. Every time their hands touched accidentally her stomach made a somersault, and she couldn't help sneaking a glance at his handsome face from time to time.

Unfortunately, she kept forgetting what she was counting every time she did.

"Did we order a whole crate of steel axes?!" he asked suddenly, causing her to jump with guilt. She had been admiring his broad shoulders instead of checking if there were enough spears.

"O-oh, yeah. Vaike keeps losing them, so Anna cut us a cheap deal. Or so she says, anyway," she replied, busying herself with the nearest box of tomes. It took her a minute to remember she'd already gone over it.

 _Dammit, I'll have to start all over at this rate-_

"Milord! We have a visitor!"

Robin and Chrom both looked up to see Frederick hurrying down the path toward them.

"Oh, hello Frederick," Robin said, glad to have an excuse not to feel like she'd been doing a shoddy job.

"Hello," he said briskly, and Robin sighed. Frederick was still terribly suspicious of her; since they'd found her lying in a field without a single memory but her name, he'd made it his personal mission to keep an eye on her. Just in case.

"I take it that Khan Basilio has arrived?" Chrom asked, wiping his hands on his shirt.

"Yes, milord," Frederick said. "Your presence is required immediately-"

"Alright, let's go then," he interrupted. If left unchecked, Frederick would talk forever and a day. They began to walk away when he stopped and turned back toward Robin. "What, aren't you coming?"

"M-me?"

"Of course, you're my chief tactician," he smiled. Robin felt like the air was knocked out of her lungs.

"Oh, in that case..."

"Milord, is it wise to have an outsider-"

"Frederick, I've told you a million times. I trust Robin with my life." Her face instantly went red, though no one seemed to notice. She hurried forward, but when she came up next to Chrom, Frederick gave her a distrustful glare.

 _I'll make you eat bear meat if it's the last thing I do_ , she thought, annoyed. A moment later she forgot all about him.

* * *

"Chrom! It's good to see you're doing well." Basilio was a large, coarse man. He was one of the Khans of Regna Ferox, though Chrom had helped his rival, Flavia, win the dominant seat in the last tournament for power. More recently, Basilio had helped the Shepherds escape from a trap after Exalt Emmeryn had been killed, and he had promised to bring reinforcements for the upcoming battle against Plegia.

"It's good to see you too, Khan Basilio," Chrom said, shaking his hand. "Thank you again for your help, we wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for you."

"Don't mention it, boy," Basilio said, nodding solemnly. No one mentioned Emmeryn, it was still a very painful topic, even a month later. "And you, Robin wasn't it? The tactician who's too clever for her own good, eh?"

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Basilio," Robin smiled.

"Ha!" he let out a loud boom of a laugh. "If only half the women I knew thought it was a pleasure to see me!"

Frederick coughed quietly behind them.

"Anyway, onto business," Chrom said quickly. "About reinforcements-"

"Right, I've brought you every last man I promised." Basilio said, nodding. "And I've done you one better; you'll like this, I guarantee it," he grinned. "Olivia!"

A young woman stepped into the tent, clasping her hands nervously. She was clad very lightly for a soldier; her navel was exposed and her clothes were made of a rather sheer fabric, though she carried a sword at her waist. Robin immediately recognized her as the woman who had helped organize their escape from Plegia.

"Oh, you're the one who-" Chrom had obviously recognized her as well.

"G-good afternoon," she said, bowing toward them. "It's nice to see you again, milord. Y-you probably don't remember my name, but I'm O-Olivia, Khan Basilio's dancer."

"A dancer?" Robin asked, curious.

"Y-yes." Olivia said, averting her eyes. "I-I'm afraid I'm not very good, though."

Basilio roared with laughter. "Not very good?! Gods, Olivia you could sell a diamond for a pebble's price with that humility. She's brilliant; she's an excellent morale booster before a good battle, and she's no amateur at the sword either," he explained.

"Is that so? I'd love to see you dance sometime," Chrom said, smiling kindly at her. Olivia flushed and for some reason Robin's stomach began to ache.

 _Did I forget to eat again?_ she thought, but she couldn't remember.

"Good, because we're having a feast tonight to celebrate, and there's nothing like a dance to round out a good feast," Basilio grinned.

"Wait, what are we celebrating exactly?" Robin asked, confused.

"Our arrival of course," Basilio replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "If we want to beat that dirty Plegian king, we'll all need to be in high spirits when we set out."

"Basilio... we're not setting out for another two weeks," Chrom said.

"So? You can never start building morale too early," he said stubbornly. Robin privately disagreed.

* * *

Basilio hadn't been exaggerating. From the moment the drums started beating in the evening torchlight, Olivia changed into an entirely different person. There was no sign of the shy girl who thought she was a bad dancer; instead, all they could see was a beauty, graceful and seductive, who knew exactly how to enrapture an audience. Every sway of her hips, every flick of her wrist, was irresistibly lovely, and Robin found herself enchanted by the dance that unfolded in front of them.

The drums grew more insistent, and in response she drew her sword, tossing it into the air as if it were nothing more than a toy. Everyone flinched whenever the blade seemed ready to fall on her, but she always caught it by the hilt, just in time. She was clearly a very adept swordswoman; Robin could see it in her stance, through the fluidity of her movements. She subconsciously began to consider where best to place someone with that kind of skill on the battlefield when the drums suddenly stopped and Olivia flew straight at Chrom with her sword. Several people gasped and Robin immediately got to her feet.

"Chrom!"

But it was merely a part of the dance; in one swift movement she fell to her knees, offering him her blade with a resolute, fierce look in her eyes. Robin breathed a sigh of relief... until she realized that Chrom was blushing.

It wasn't just him; Olivia was breathing hard after moving around so much and her pose was incredibly suggestive, especially since her clothes were so revealing. Half the army, including several women, seemed to have lost their ability to think as they stared at her, and Robin suddenly realized what a valuable asset Basilio had given them.

If only Chrom wasn't staring at her like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

* * *

Robin was very subdued for the next few days. She felt dirty, somehow, like she'd witnessed something not meant for her to see. Even after the dance was over, Olivia and Chrom didn't move for a very long time; it was Basilio who broke the tense silence and began applauding, but Robin could see that they had been completely lost in each others' gazes. Her heart ached to remember it. She had never seen him look at anyone like that before, like he was utterly bewitched, and Robin found herself wishing that Olivia had never joined the Shepherds at all.

She hated herself for that thought almost immediately. She liked to think she was a fair and sensible person, and Olivia had done nothing wrong to deserve such ill will. And if Robin's intuition was right, and Olivia _did_ have an interest in Chrom... well, it wasn't like she was the first. Even _Robin_ wasn't the first, and she had long since learned that petty jealousy was only a detriment to the running of an army.

 _We're allies, first and foremost,_ she reminded herself as she sat at the edge of the river, scrubbing her clothes clean. _Chrom is a very kind and attractive man... plenty of girls in the army must notice him on a daily basis. Olivia is the same as the rest of us, and I don't want to hate her for such a dumb reason. I want to get to know her on my own terms._

Her nail suddenly got caught in the washboard and she cursed, dropping her bar of soap into the water. Luckily, the current was very slow, so she merely leaned forward to fish it out.

She stopped. She'd seen her reflection in the water and been startled by how tired she looked. There were dark bags under her eyes from all the late nights she worked, and her skin looked ghastly. There was a good amount of dirt smudged on her cheeks and there was a scar across her jaw that she'd gotten several battles ago. Her hair was coarse and frazzled; she rarely had time to take care of it so she just pulled it up in the mornings.

 _I look... like a soldier,_ she realized. She looked down at her hands; they were calloused and rough, and there were blisters on the joints. She'd once had nice hands; she had taken care to wear gloves so as not to hurt herself, but over time she'd forgotten to use them. She had never been a beauty, not like Olivia, but she was still ashamed to see herself now, so worn after being on the march for so long.

 _It's a good thing I don't own a mirror,_ she thought bitterly, diving for the bar of soap. _A tactician has no time to feel bad for herself._

But after remembering the look that Chrom had given Olivia, she did anyway.

* * *

It wasn't like Robin to wallow in her feelings, however. She was the type to take action, and once she'd finished feeling sorry for herself, she decided to do something about the whole issue.

 _Alright, you can't expect to catch his attention the same way as Olivia did,_ she reasoned to herself. _And you can't expect the other girls, including Olivia, to back off, because they have just as much of a right to like him as you do. So if you want Chrom, you're going to have to work for it. You can't afford to wait until after the war is over or it might be too late. You have your own strengths, Robin. So. What are they?_

She stared around her tent for a moment. She caught sight of her criminally underused hair brush and winced.

 _Okay, first, I'll brush my hair,_ then _I'll find my strengths._

She sat on the edge of her bed and pulled her hair tie out, running her fingers through the tangled locks.

 _Ugh when was the last time I did this?!_ She finally managed to pull through a particularly nasty knot and got to work on the rest. _Anyway, you don't have the looks to compete with Olivia, or Cordelia for that matter. You're not the best warrior in camp, or the most interesting... but you probably are the cleverest, I guess. Which is a good thing in battle, but... ehh... I'll come back to that. You're_ definitely _not a dancer... or even graceful for that matter... but you're good at magic...?_

She paused. "Why the hell am I only good at war?!" she said aloud, frustrated. _I can't even say I'm great at it because we have people like Sully on our side, and she's fantastic..._ and _attractive at the same time..._ She groaned and fell back on her bed, her brush abandoned.

"I just want him to like me," she sighed, covering her eyes with the back of her hand. "Is that such a terrible thing to want?"

She reached for the book she'd been reading earlier, thinking that it might be best to think about this another time, when she saw the cover and got an idea.

* * *

"Are you going to tell me what this is about?"

Chrom had come along at her insistence, but she hadn't explained to him what she needed him for. It was the middle of the night, and most of the camp was asleep.

"Hold on, just wait a bit," she said, leading the way through the bushes.

"You're not going to hit me over the head and reveal yourself as a traitor, are you?" he asked, though Robin could hear the joke in his voice.

"Haha, not funny," she said, frowning back at him.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself," he said, a playful smile on his lips.

"Keep it up, mister, and we're turning right around," she warned.

"I don't even know what we're doing out here," he complained. "Is there any point to all the secrecy?"

"It's a surprise," she muttered. "Just... trust me, okay?"

"Fine," he said, giving a bemused sigh. "I trust you know what you're doing."

She led him around the camp and through a bit of the woods until they came to a large clearing. The river passed right through, filling the night air with the gentle sound of running water.

"Here we are," she said cheerfully. She walked over to a fallen log and motioned for him to sit down with her.

"Uh, you brought me out here to show me the river?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I brought you here to see _that_ ," she said, pointing up at the sky.

It was a clear, moonless night, so the stars were especially bright. A path of white illuminated the darkness, millions of stars all blinking together, glistening like the sunlight on a river's surface. Every few seconds a light streaked across the sky. It all looked... alive.

Chrom stared silently, his mouth slightly agape. Robin felt a sense of pride burn within her.

"It's a yearly phenomenon," she explained, pulling a small book from her coat pocket. "For some reason, every year around this time, there's a few days when the stars fall throughout the night. I learned about it in my studies; magic relies on these sorts of things, so tonight is supposed to be an especially good time for light magic. I thought... you might want to see it," she added, feeling self conscious.

"Wow... it's beautiful," he said, his voice awed. "I've never seen stars move like that before."

"I'm glad you like it," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously.

"But..." he turned to face her. "Why are you only showing me?"

Robin felt her throat tighten.

"Uhm... well... you've been so busy lately... and things have been... hard on you... I just thought..."

 _Why can't I just be honest?!_ she mentally berated herself.

"That's just like you," he said. "Always thinking about others before yourself. Don't you know that there will be rumors if people find out we were spending time together alone at night?"

She blushed at the implication. "I, um, well..."

"I'd hate for people to get the wrong idea," he said, a sad smile on his lips. "You're my friend, I don't want to be the cause of bad rumors."

 _Oh gods damn it!_

"Chrom!" she said aloud, standing up and shutting her eyes tightly. _Courage, Robin... if there's something you have in spades, it's the courage to do the things no one else would even consider doing. You can do this!_ "I... I didn't just bring you here to see the stars," she said, clenching her fists tightly. Her palms were sweaty and she was having trouble catching her breath, but she soldiered on. "I don't care if there are... rumors... I wanted to tell you that- that I..."

She had to stop and catch her breath, and Chrom stood up to help. "Are you alright?!"

"I'm f-fine," she gasped, holding out a hand. _Breathe, dammit!_

"Should we go back to the infirmary?! Maybe Lissa can take a look-"

"No! I'm just... _I'm just in love with you!"_

She hadn't realized that she'd shouted until she heard her own voice echoing back to her from the woods. She clapped her hands over her mouth, horrified.

"You- what?!" His face went from pale to red in a millisecond and he stepped back out of shock.

"I... I wasn't going to tell you like this, not at first," she said miserably, sinking back onto the log. "I was going to wait until after the war... but I saw how you looked at Olivia during her dance, and I... I was jealous... I wanted to do something to show you that I care about you, even if I'm not beautiful or interesting like her... I'm an idiot," she moaned, burying her face into her sleeves.

There was a good minute of silence, and Robin started to wonder if Chrom hadn't just left. But then he spoke.

"I... I'm sorry, I should have realized earlier," he sighed. She looked up to see him awkwardly scratching at his hair. "I'm the real idiot here. I'm sorry for causing you so much distress."

"N-no, it's not like it's your fault," she said, her voice muffled by her coat. "And I don't expect anything from you. I just... wanted you to know. I understand if you don't want to see me again..."

"Why would I want that?" He sank down in front of her and tugged her sleeves away from her face. "You're kind, and thoughtful... smart, and even if you don't think so, you're an amazing woman. I've always been in awe of you, and hearing your feelings makes me incredibly happy." Robin's heart thudded painfully in her chest as he spoke.

"Please stop, you're going to raise my hopes for nothing," she said, looking away from his earnest eyes.

"Oh for the love of Naga... Robin, what part of this conversation makes you think I'm about to reject you?!"

"You... aren't?"

"Of course not! You think I was always looking for you for no reason?! Why do you think we kept bumping into each other in camp, or why I was always eager to help you with your work?" He was completely flushed now, but he kept going. "Gods, If I keep this in any longer I'm going to explode... Robin, I've been in love with you for ages. I'm just sorry for never figuring out you felt the same way."

"You... huh?!" She was completely taken aback. "But... you never... and that thing with Olivia..."

"Are you insane?! True, I was captivated, but c'mon, I'm not made of stone! And _you_ looked just as entranced, I saw you! She's an amazing dancer, and very pretty, I'll admit, but I hardly know her! Gods, anyone would react the way I did if she'd knelt in front of _them_."

"Then..."

"Do I have to say it again?! I love _you_ , Robin, not Olivia, not anyone else in this entire army. You." He reached out and took her face in his hands gently. "Do you understand now?"

She thought her heart might stop.

"R-really?"

"Really."

"But... I'm so... plain, and dull... and I definitely can't dance," she mumbled, completely overwhelmed.

"What part of you is plain, huh? All I see is a lovely young woman, tired, maybe, but only because she works so hard to protect each and every person in this army. In my eyes, you're the most beautiful, most hardworking girl there is. And I can't dance for the life of me, so we're even. I just hope we'll never be asked to dance together," he grinned.

"But if there's ever a wedding between our friends-" she began, losing her head slightly.

"Oh, bloody hell, you're right," he said, looking horrified at the thought. "Weddings mean we have to dance... In that case, we'll have to start practicing now, because I have every intention of marrying you as soon as we're back in Ylisstol." He got up and held out a hand for her. "May I have this dance?"

She stared up at him, flustered beyond belief. "Wh-what? But... there's no music," she said blankly. Still, she took his hand all the same.

"We don't need any," he said, his voice much too close to her ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"But I'll step on your feet."

"I don't care. I'll probably step on yours too."

They stared at each other for a moment and laughed. The sound echoed through the darkness, and for the rest of the night, the stars watched over each clumsy, heartfelt step they took together.

* * *

 _ **"Please, today, let's go for a walk**_

 _ **Alone through the town tonight**_

 _ **Because, you see, in the moonlight**_

 _ **The usual things look so beautiful."**_


	4. Imaginary Folklore

**Day 4: Myth**

 **Song: Imaginary Folklore by Nujabes  
**

* * *

Lissa was dying; everyone knew it. In her dark room, it was easy to mistake her for a normal sleeping girl, but once anyone got too close they noticed the hot, flushed skin, the cracked lips, and the labored breathing. Every doctor in the kingdom had been sent for, but they all had the same grim look when they finished their examinations and shook their heads.

Desperate to find what ailed his youngest daughter, the king sent for a witch in secret. Chrom saw her arrive in the dead of night, hooded and foreboding, and immediately went to Lissa's room to see what she could tell them about her affliction.

The witch ran her terrible sharp nails over his sister's cheek and muttered some words that Chrom did not understand. His eldest sister, Emmeryn, clutched his hand nervously as the dark woman pulled out a bottle full of red liquid and smeared it over Lissa's brow. She continued to mutter and make strange sounds until finally, she sighed and turned to the royal family.

"She will be dead within the month," she said, her voice rasp and cold. Chrom noticed that her eyes were rimmed with black, but the rest of her face was exceptionally pale.

Emmeryn pressed her hands to her mouth and their mother broke into quiet sobs.

"Is there nothing we can do?" the king asked, a desperate note in his tone.

"She's been cursed," the witch explained. "Blighted by the God of Death himself. She must have done something to anger him."

"We don't know what she might have done," he said. "We found her collapsed in the garden one day, and she hasn't woken since."

"Whatever she did, Death will never relinquish his hold over her," the witch said, and her black eyes fell on Chrom. "However, there is one way to save her."

"What is it?!" Emmeryn asked immediately.

"In the mountains, far to the west beyond the setting sun, there is a wood. It is the realm of Death's daughter, the goddess of fallen souls. If one were to venture into those woods and return alive with a vial of the goddess' blood before the girl's time runs out, it could be used to protect her from Death's embrace. Only the taste of his daughter's blood would be enough to relinquish his hold on her."

"Then we'll send someone immediately," the king said, but the witch held up her hand.

"Any who enter the goddess' dominion without resolve will lose themselves and wander forever in her lands. Only one who truly loves the girl will be able to enter and return unscathed, but they must do so alone."

"I'll go," Emmeryn immediately offered.

"No," her father said sharply. "You are my heir, you mustn't risk your life so recklessly... even if it is for Lissa."

"But Father!"

The witch hadn't taken her eyes from Chrom even once.

"Boy, you have the mark of fate on you," she said suddenly, and everyone fell silent. "How old are you?"

"Fi-fifteen, ma'am," he answered unsure how to address her. "But I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean." She laughed, a wild, coarse bark of a sound.

"If you understood, boy, you'd be wise beyond your years. But _I_ can see it, there's something great written in your destiny. If anyone can enter the goddess' realm and return, it will be you."

"M-me?"

"Do you love your sister, prince?"

"Of course... but..."

"Are you afraid?"

"No! Well... I don't know... I'm afraid I won't make it in time."

"There's more to fear in the world than time, little prince," the witch said. "But if you wish to see your sister live, you must conquer those fears. Will you go?"

Chrom looked up at his parents and sister. All three of them looked doubtful; what could a boy, still hardly a man, do on his own? He set his teeth.

"I... I don't have the confidence that I'll succeed... but I'll go."

"Confidence is a fool's illusion," she said curtly, and reached into her hood. She pulled out a single, small feather, red as blood. "Take this. Along your travels, you may find something that brings this feather to mind. If you do, you must decide carefully. What you choose will affect your sister's fate."

He reached out to accept it. "Which is the right decision?"

"There is never a right decision," the witch said cryptically. "There is only ever a different one."

* * *

Chrom had never been on his own before. As a prince, he had always been followed around by a retinue, and he'd never gone further than the nearest town. It was wonderfully freeing and unnerving to wander the roads alone, especially when his only directions were to keep heading west, toward the faint line of mountains on the horizon.

He saw less and less people each day, and he was glad that he at least had learned how to hunt and clean game when his food stores began to run low. He'd been given a bow and a short sword, for self defense, as well as a traveling pack and a cloak, but the money he carried quickly became useless. There were few merchants to be found once away from the settlements, and it took him less than a week to reach completely uninhabited lands, lush and wild. The mountains remained as distant as ever.

He tried to increase his pace over the next few days; he had to keep in mind the return journey and Lissa was not guaranteed to last through the whole month. But each day he woke to find the mountains still hazy in the distance, and no amount of coaxing would make his horse go any faster than is already was.

 _I won't make it at this rate,_ he thought desperately as the second week began. In order to give the horse some rest, he'd had to walk on foot for several hours during the day and it was hard work once the roads were gone. It had been several days since he'd seen another human being, and the lonely monotony was beginning to chip at his resolve.

That afternoon, they crossed into a plain. The grass seemed to go on forever, a sea of green, billowing in the wind. The trees were few and far in between, small copses that offered little protection from the burning sun. As far as Chrom could tell, there was no immediate water source, so he had to trek a bit north to find a small river in which to refill his water skin.

The water was so cool that he decided to wash a bit. He pulled off his tunic and his boots and waded into the water, enjoying the cold sensation on his overheated body.

"It's been a very long time since I've seen anyone come through here."

Startled, he turned to see a girl sitting on a boulder at the river's edge. She looked young, about his age, and she was dressed in a white tunic. Her hair was long and redder than blood, rippling like liquid in the breeze, and Chrom was sure no one had been there a moment ago when he'd stepped into the water.

"Who are you?!" he asked immediately, reaching for his sword, which he'd left on the pile of discarded clothes. It wasn't there, and Chrom looked back at the strange girl to see that she was holding the sheathe almost lazily.

"A tool like this will do you little good out in these lands," she said, pulling the blade free and inspecting it. "This is the Western Wild, gateway to the domain of the gods. Which leads me to ask, rude child, who _you_ are, demanding answers from a stranger in a land you do not belong in."

Chrom swallowed, his mouth dry. If she was telling the truth, then she was likely a spirit or god herself.

"P-please, I beg your forgiveness," he stuttered. "I didn't know these were sacred lands."

"Ignorance is no excuse," she said. Her eyes were a deep brown, rich like earth. "Besides, if you are venturing in this direction, you must be seeking something divine. No human comes so far west without searching for something. What is it you seek, boy?"

"I-I've come in search of Death's daughter. My sister is dying and requires her blood," he said, avoiding her strong gaze.

"What makes you think the goddess will give you what you ask of her?" she asked sharply. "A god's blood is no simple gift; you are asking for the essence of a divine being, something that has been forbidden to mortals."

"I don't know that she will," he admitted. "All I can do is ask; my sister will die without it."

The girl stared at him for a moment; she didn't seem to need to blink as much as he did and her eyes seemed to be judging him.

"You may die on this journey," she warned.

He nodded. "I know. I am prepared."

"You are a fool," she scoffed. "Humans always are."

"I don't know how to be anything else," he said honestly.

She cocked her head, and to his surprise she smiled. It was a rather impish sort of smile, though he didn't sense any malice from it.

"I see. Well, if it's the Lady of the Wood you seek, I can lead you there," she said, resting her cheek on her palm.

"The... Lady of the Wood?"

"The goddess you seek. She is Death's daughter, but that is only one small part of who she is. She guards the souls of the dead and sends them on beyond the western edge of the world."

"You know the way to her realm?"

"I do."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't," she said, running her fingers through her hair. "Trust is a human concept. It means nothing in the Western Wild."

"Will you at least tell me who you are?" he asked. If she was a god, it would be worth knowing if he was facing an enemy or a friend.

She cocked her head, not unlike a bird. "I don't have a name," she said. "I am merely the spirit of a robin."

"Then... you're not a goddess?"

She shrugged. "There are more things in the world than you can comprehend, child. But no, I am not. Whether you take up my offer of help is up to you. What will you choose?"

He stared at her, thinking hard.

 _A spirit... Robins are good portents, portents of spring... I suppose that's why her hair is so red-_

He suddenly recalled the feather the witch had given him.

 _"Along your travels, you may find something that brings this feather to mind. If you do, you must decide carefully. What you choose will affect your sister's fate."_

 _It was a robin's feather,_ he realized. _This is the choice I must make._

He looked at the spirit again. She was still staring at him, those wide brown eyes deep and mysterious.

"Why do you want to help me?" he asked.

Her expression changed, became softer and warmer. "It's been a long time since I've met anyone so earnest," she said. "There's something about you that calls to me. Will you accept my help?"

He closed his eyes, hoping he wasn't putting Lissa's life in peril.

"Yes."

* * *

The robin was an excellent guide. She seemed to know exactly where to go and how to avoid the most difficult paths. In only two days of following her directions, Chrom immediately saw a difference in how far the mountains looked.

"Why is it that they look so near now?" he asked, awed. He could see the hills of the Wild slope upward, and it was perhaps less than a day's journey to the foot. "Before, they never seemed to get any closer."

"There's magic in the Wild," she explained, leading the horse onward. "If you wander in unaware, you will be lost forever, unable to go forward or back." He shivered at the thought of how close he'd come to such a fate.

"How much longer until we reach the Lady's domain?"

"Two days," the robin said, pointing up at the mountain. "The wood begins just before the crest of that hill. It covers the entire mountain, but to find the goddess you merely need to set foot in her realm."

"Have you met her before?"

She blinked. "Once. A long time ago."

"What was she like?"

"Like a goddess," she said simply, turning away from him. "The Lady of the Wood is the goddess of rebirth, different from her father, though it seems humans only remember her connection to him."

"Is there a reason for that?"

"I wouldn't know. I only see what I see and hear what I hear. Death and his daughter work in tandem to keep the balance of souls in the world, but they are not the same. Humans fear the things they don't understand, so rebirth means little to them."

Chrom fell silent.

"Do you know why Death might curse a young girl?"

The robin gave him a knowing look.

"I couldn't tell you how a god thinks," she said. "But it's likely your sister did something to defy him. Did she ever cheat him of his claims?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did she ever prevent something or someone from dying when Death had its hold on them?"

Chrom thought for a moment. "It sounds like something Lissa might do," he admitted. Not that long ago, his sister had nursed an injured bird back to health; he wouldn't have been surprised to hear that she'd done so again.

"Death is a jealous god," the robin sighed. "He must have his dues, and there is only one person who has ever stood between him and what he covets."

"Who?"

"His daughter."

* * *

The more time he spent with her, the more awed he was by the robin. Even if she hadn't told him so, he would never have assumed she was a human after getting to know her. Her moods were as wild as a storm over the sea, calm and gentle one moment and roiling the next. Her movements alternated between an otherworldly grace and the sharp, unexpected twitching of a bird, and her hair and clothes were perpetually blowing, even when there was no wind. Though she looked like a girl, her eyes were wise and far older than anyone he'd ever known.

He realized that he enjoyed her company. She wasn't always serious; she had a mischievous streak to her and took joy in simple pleasures. She often called his attention to small things like the sound of water running over stones, or the smell of the fresh grass, and she sometimes ran ahead, laughing, for no reason other than that she felt like it. Being near her reassured him somehow, and she was fascinating to talk to. She answered all his questions, though not necessarily in the way he expected her to, and from time to time she would ask her own questions, which made him feel dull in comparison.

"I'm afraid the human world isn't very interesting," he said, walking alongside her.

"A human wouldn't think so, no," she admitted, her bare feet hardly making a noise over his own loud boots. "But to a spirit or a god, it's a very different world. Things change quickly for humans, too quickly for us to follow. We have no fear of an end, for ends never come to us. But you all must eventually face your own ends, and the ends of all those around you." Her eyes looked rather sad as she spoke. "Even so, you don't despair. It's... compelling."

"There's nothing particularly special about it," he said. "We just... live."

"Exactly," she said, but she didn't elaborate. Chrom had no idea what she meant.

He was about to ask when she came to a stop and held out her arm.

"We're here," she said simply.

They had arrived at the edge of a dense wood. Though it was bright where they stood, the trees inside were so close together that it was dark as night. Chrom thought he could see things moving in the darkness, though he couldn't quite make out what they were.

"This is the goddess' realm?" he asked, and his voice came out in a whisper.

"It is," the robin said, her eyes fixed on the trees. "There is an altar not far from here. The Lady of the Wood will be there." She held a hand toward him; he had never touched her before, and he accepted it very timidly. Her palm was warm, like the sun. "When we enter, stay close to me. Do not let go for any reason, and keep your eyes forward; don't look anywhere else." He nodded. "You must leave the creature behind," she warned. "He will be waiting for you when you return. Are you prepared?"

Chrom looked at his horse and patted its nose. "I think so," he said, his mouth dry.

"Good. I will walk slightly ahead, so you may look at my hair if it helps you focus. The red will shine in the dark," she said, and she gave him a kind smile. Some of his fear dissipated and he unconsciously squeezed her hand in thanks.

"Do not look anywhere else," she repeated, and together, they stepped into the night.

* * *

Had the robin not been there, Chrom would never have made it to the altar. As he'd thought, there were things moving in the wood, and it took all of his focus not to turn and look at them. They made terrible sounds, a cacophony of creaking, rustling, moaning, and howling in the distance. He couldn't be sure if they were creatures or people, and not being able to see them made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

It was the robin that kept him going; her hair seemed to have a light of its own, a pale, orange light, like a dim fire, which kept his eyes firmly fixed on her. When a particularly loud noise threatened to startle him into looking, a gentle sound floated back toward him; she was whistling, a sweet calming sound that instantly reminded him to breathe and focus. They walked like this for an eternity, until finally, she came to a stop.

"This is the Lady's altar," she said, and let go of his hand. The loss of her warmth was a shock; he hadn't realized how cold it was in the wood. He shivered and took in his surroundings.

They were in a small clearing, though there was no sunlight streaming through the trees as it should. In the center of the clearing stood the altar. It was a stone, set on a small round dais. There were some faint carvings on it that Chrom assumed were words, though he couldn't make them out.

"There's... no one here," he said, and his words echoed strangely in the dark. He turned to look at the robin but she was gone. He was alone.

 _Did she trick me?!_ he thought, panicking. The witch's warning came back to him, but it was too late now to do anything about it. A terrible ache filled his heart. He'd come to trust in the robin, come to think of her as a friend. Had she ever truly intended to help him? Had it all been a lie?

His heart heavy, he took a step toward the altar. Lissa was still dying, and he had to be sure that he'd done everything in his power to save her. The cold was overwhelming, his hands trembling, but he forced his feet forward. One step, then another. Finally, he was standing right before the stone, and now it seemed he could read the words etched onto it, though he could not understand them.

"My, this _is_ a surprise."

He jumped, startled, and turned to see a stranger standing just behind him. It was a man, tall and gaunt. His eyes were a deep, dark, black, the whites almost invisible, and there was a strange smile on his face. He made a strange motion with his head, and Chrom immediately recognized that he was looking at something inhuman. His blood pounded in his ears, fear thick on his tongue.

"It's been many years since a human dared to venture into the Wood," the man said, blinking slowly. Though he looked no older than Chrom's father, his hair was pure white and looked rather ruffled. "What is it you seek, child?"

"T-The Lady of the Wood," Chrom whispered, unable to lie. The man's eyes widened and his smile became terrible, almost like a snarl.

"And what business have you with my daughter?"

 _His daughter?!_ If the man spoke true, he was face to face with Death himself.

Chrom couldn't speak for fear, and he unconsciously took a step back. Death made that strange motion again, and Chrom realized what it reminded him of; an owl, deciding on its prey.

"No need to be afraid, child," Death said, but though his tone was kind, a shiver worked its way down Chrom's spine. He stared at the boy intently, and Chrom got the impression that he was being read like a book. A moment later, Death blinked again. "I know you. I know what you want of my child, and why you have ventured so far into the Wild. You seek her blood."

"Y-yes," Chrom replied.

"You are either brave or a fool," Death said, still smiling his awful smile. "Did you hope to gain immortal life? Did you think that drinking of her blood would allow you to cheat me of what is mine?"

Chrom shook his head desperately.

"Then there is no reason for you to be here, human." His voice had become progressively colder, and Chrom's hand automatically reached behind him, toward the altar. His fingers touched the grooves of the words on the stone, and suddenly he understood.

 _"Death is a jealous god. He must have his dues."_ They were the same words the robin had spoken to him before.

"I... I have a reason," he said, and his voice shook so much that he thought he might choke. _If it's to save Lissa... I will do anything._ "I've come... to exchange my life for another," he said quietly, praying that it would work.

Death laughed. It was a high, cold sound, chilling to the bone.

"A brave fool, then. Tell me, with whom would you make this exchange?"

"M-my younger sister."

Death stepped forward and took Chrom's chin. He examined his face carefully, turning it to both sides. "Ah, I see. Your sister is under my curse; she cheated me of a cat who had fallen in a well. It was a small offense, it's true, but she did it with pride and defiance in her heart. Death is not something for a human to play with, and all living things weigh the same in death," he said coldly. "But I am not an unfair god, child. If you are willing to take her place, I will remove my curse from your sister."

"I-I'm willing," Chrom said, shutting his eyes tightly. "Take me instead." _I'm sorry Lissa, Emmeryn... Mother, Father... know that I loved you all._

But instead of pain, he felt a warmth spread through his fingertips, and he realized that someone was holding his hand.

"You have done well."

He opened his eyes to find the robin smiling at him, and Death immediately let go of Chrom.

"You!"

"Hello, Father," she said calmly. "It has been a long time."

Death did not reply, his eyes went from the robin to Chrom and back.

"He is under your protection, then?" he said suddenly, and the robin nodded.

"He is. I wanted to be sure of his character before I gave him what he sought."

Death sighed. "It is just like you, daughter, to use your own father for such a simple reason. Very well, I will not take him. But are you certain you trust this boy with your blood?"

"Trust is a human concept, Father," the robin said, and Chrom saw that there was a mischievous glint in her eye.

The god chuckled. "That it is." He turned back to Chrom. "Child, I will allow you to remove my curse; I cannot undo it myself, you see. Only the Lady of the Wood has the power to restore life."

"Th-thank you," Chrom said weakly. He thought his legs might give out from under him.

"You are fortunate. The Lady does not protect those she deems unworthy." But before Chrom could say anything else, Death vanished. A moment later he thought he could hear the faint hooting of an owl above the trees.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"That I was the goddess you were searching for?" the robin asked, a sly smile on her lips.

"Yes, it would have saved me-"

"Only humans think in terms of saving time and effort," she said sharply as they walked. The woods seemed less forbidding now, and there was a warm green light everywhere. Chrom was told he was free to look around, though there was no trace of the creatures they'd seen on their way in. "You could have taken my blood back at any time, but without proving the strength of your resolve, it would have been as useless as any tonic. Your willingness to sacrifice yourself for your sister's sake is what will save her, not the blood itself."

"Then..."

"I will give you what you came for and your sister will be saved," she said.

They had reached the end of the wood. The horse was there, waiting just as she had promised.

"Hand me your blade," she said, and he obliged. She unsheathed it and held out her arm. She cut into the crook of her arm and a red line of blood began to flow freely. She pulled a small glass bottle from thin air and let the drops fall into it. When it was halfway full, she corked it and handed it to him. The wound had disappeared.

"You will find that the way back through the Wild is easier," she said. There was something sad about her eyes, and Chrom felt his heart tighten slightly.

"You- You aren't coming with me?" he realized, a feeling of despair filling him from within.

"Not this time," she said softly. She pressed a hand to his cheek. "I learned much as your guide. About humans, and about you," she murmured. Her thumb brushed over his lips, and Chrom felt his heart catch in his throat. "Perhaps even about myself," she said. She made to pull her hand away but Chrom hurriedly held it in place.

"Don't," he said. "I don't want to say goodbye. I..." But he didn't know what he was going to say.

"Farewells are a-"

"If you say human concept, I'll kiss you right here and now," Chrom said suddenly. She blinked, surprised, then laughed, her face full of color.

"A human concept," she said, and Chrom made good on his promise. She was warm, like the sun, and she smelled sweet, like a spring bloom.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked, when he finally pulled away. He held her close, his face buried in her wild, red hair, unwilling to let her go.

"What is it?"

"If Death had taken me in Lissa's place... would I have been able to stay at your side?"

"...Yes. But it would not have been a happy existence. The dead who die before their time spend hundreds and thousands of years regretting and despairing. It twists them, turns them into shadows of themselves. Those are the creatures you heard when we entered the Wood."

"Then... will I ever see you again?"

"It depends."

"On?"

"If you love me. There's magic in emotions that strong. If you truly love me, you will be drawn back here, one way or another."

"I... I don't know," he said truthfully. "But I'd like to find out. Right now I don't even have a name to call you by."

She smiled. "But I already told you my name. You've known it all along."

"You mean... you lied?"

"Perhaps," she laughed again. "I told you; Death's daughter is only one small part of who I am, just as the Lady of the Wood is another small part. I am also a Robin, just as my father is an Owl. That's my name."

"Robin," he repeated, and kissed her forehead. He begrudgingly let her go and pulled himself up into his saddle. "I'll come back to you someday, no matter what," he said, feeling like his heart would break. But Lissa was waiting, and there was no time to waste.

As he rode away, he turned back to look at her one last time.

"I'll come back, I promise!" he called again.

"I'll be waiting, forever if I have to!" she shouted in return. "Even if it's only when you die... I trust you'll come back to me, Chrom!"

She had never used his name before, and Chrom felt himself smile even though he wanted to cry.

On the journey home, he was constantly accompanied by the faint sound of wings and a high, sweet robin's song.

* * *

 ** _"The announcement for the final train is clearer than usual_**

 ** _I stare blankly at the sky, as always, my eyelids heavy_**

 ** _I close my eyes, and from far away, I hear your voice_**

 ** _It's time for me to get going."_**


	5. Dream Catcher

**Day 5: Morgan & Lucina  
**

 **Song: Dream Catcher by 넬 (Nell)**

* * *

"Hey, new guy! Er, sorry, I never caught your name."

"It's Chrom," he says, smiling. He knows his coworker heard his name yesterday, but he doesn't mind having to repeat himself.

"Oh, that's right," the other man nods. "Nice to meet ya, Chrom. I'm Gaius. Welcome to office hell," he grins, holding out a hand. Chrom shakes it.

"It's not my first time in this kind of job," Chrom says. "I used to work for a law firm, a few years back."

"Ooh, fancy," Gaius whistles. What are you doing in the little leagues? You get fired for inappropriate conduct or something?" He leans against the cubicle wall, watching Chrom work as they talk.

"No, my wife had a baby," Chrom explains. "After her maternity leave was over, I decided to stay at home and raise my daughter."

"Ah, a stay-at-home dad? That's pretty rare."

"It's the best job in the world," Chrom grins, and Gaius shakes his head.

"Can't say I understand, but to each his own," he shrugs. He pulls out a bonbon and unwraps it. "You want one?" he offers, but Chrom turns him down. "So how come you're back in the corporate world? Your kid get old enough for school or something?"

"No, she's still only four. But Robin, my wife, is having another baby soon. I'm working again to support the family in the meantime," he says, looking through a file. "I'm only here for a few months until she goes back to work."

"Sounds tough, man."

"It can be, but I don't mind," he finds the document he was looking for and pulls it out. "So what's your story, Gaius?"

"Nothing really. I graduated, I needed a job, I came here," the red-haired man shrugs. He thoughtfully sucks on the bonbon for a minute. "Pays the bills, ya know? Keeps my sweet tooth satisfied, and that's good enough for me. I don't have to worry about anyone else so it's good enough pay, but are you sure this kind of job is... lucrative enough for a family of four?"

"Nah, it doesn't have to be," Chrom says. "My wife is pretty high up in the ranks at her job. She was actually my boss at that law firm I quit, so she's where the real money comes from. I'm just giving her a hand, it's the least I can do for making her go through another pregnancy," he winces.

"Yikes, I'm guessing from your reaction that you were in that operating room when your kid was born," Gaius says, and he winces as well.

"Yeah. It's... a lot worse than they tell you it is."

"Please, no details."

* * *

"Lucina, please, mommy has a headache."

The little girl immediately drops the spoon and pot lid she's been banging together and hurries over to her mother. Though she's a girl, Luci has taken after Chrom; her eyes are the same shade of blue and her face is shaped just like his. She even has his eyebrows and his nose, and her hair is the same color too. And since it's Chrom who looks after her while Robin is at work, she's got his personality as well.

"No, mommy! I'm sorry! Are you okay?!" she fusses. She climbs into Robin's lap carefully and presses her small, chubby hands to her mother's forehead. "Pain, pain, go away," she chants, and Robin laughs.

"You're so sweet, Luci," she says, hugging the girl tightly.

"Daddy says that's because you're my mommy," the girl says, clinging to her mother's shoulder.

"Your daddy is a big, fat liar," Robin grins. If anything, Luci's tendency to fret and worry is 100% Chrom.

Lucina claps her hands to her mouth. "Really?!"

"Yep, and when he walks through the door today, you go ahead and you tell him I said so," she says seriously. Luci giggles with delight.

"When my brother comes, can I tell him daddy is a liar too?"

"Uh huh, and you guys have my permission to drive daddy crazy," she says, kissing Lucina's forehead. "But not _too_ crazy, okay? After all, we still love daddy, don't we?"

"Yeah! Thiiiiis much!" Luci holds out her arms to indicate the size of her love and Robin laughs again.

 _She's really too cute. I'm going to hate going back to work and leaving her behind._

"Ok, should we make daddy's favorite for dinner?" she asks, pulling her hair up. Lucina climbs down obligingly from her lap.

"Yes!"

"Alright, to the kitchen!"

"To the kitchen!" Lucina repeats, pointing up. She giggles and hurries away, though Robin takes her time getting up from the dining table.

 _Oof, I swear this baby is heavier than Luci was_ , she groans, stretching her back slightly. She's due in a couple of months now, and though she's dreading the delivery and is anxious for her baby, it will be a relief to finally be able to move again once it's all over.

* * *

Chrom loves nothing better than dinner after a hard day's work. When he's at home and Robin is the one coming home, he and Lucina are always ecstatic to see her, and they do their best to lift her spirits after a tiring day. Now that he's the one coming home, it's wonderful to open the door and find that his wife has made something to eat (though actually eating it is it's own challenge, if he's honest) and that his daughter is waiting to hear all about _his_ day.

It makes the dull, unfulfilling work of a temp worthwhile, and no one in the office is happier than him when it's time to clock out.

"Hey, wanna grab a drink tonight?" Gaius offers from time to time.

"Can't, I've got dinner with the family," Chrom says, cheerfully pulling on his coat.

"You always have dinner with the fam," Gaius says, rolling his eyes. "Don't you ever want some time to yourself?"

"No, not really. If I wanted to spend time alone, I wouldn't have gotten married," he shrugs.

"You sure love your wife, Chrom."

"Yeah. She's my whole world," he says softly. "You wouldn't believe how hard it was to get her to accept my proposal-"

"Alright, alright, when you get started with one of your 'how I met my soulmate' stories, you go on for hours," Gaius says, waving his hands for Chrom to stop. "Just go home, you big dork."

"Gladly," Chrom says, laughing as he walks out of the office.

* * *

 _Hmm, we're out of pepper and garlic,_ Robin notices, looking through the fridge. _I don't think we have any vegetables left either..._

"Luci!" she calls, writing down a list. "We're going to the store, okay?"

"Okay, mommy!" comes the reply from the living room, and Robin can hear Luci running to grab her coat and shoes.

Robin checks the time; there's still about two hours before Chrom comes home, so it should be fine to walk.

"I'm ready, mommy," Lucina says, and she peeks around the corner, her coat buttoned up neatly.

 _What a good kid,_ Robin thinks proudly.

"Okay, let's go," she says, taking Lucina's hand.

"Are we taking the car, mommy?" she asks as Robin grabs her coat from the rack. It's too small for her now, with her huge belly, but it does the job.

"No, we're just going to the store down the street. Cars are bad for the air, so we're gonna help by only using it when we have to, okay?"

"Okay," Luci says, and Robin locks the door behind them.

* * *

Chrom is in the middle of a tedious report when the phone rings.

"Kendrick International, this is Chrom speaking, how may I help you?"

The voice on the other end is solemn and serious. "Am I speaking to Chrom Everett?"

"Y-yes, who is this?" he frowns. This isn't supposed to be a private line.

"I'm sorry to disturb you at work, Mr. Everett. This is the police, and this is the only number we found on hand."

He immediately sits up straight. "The police?!"

"Yes. I'm afraid your wife is in critical condition. She was hit by a car and is currently in the hospital at-"

Chrom doesn't hear the rest, he's already dropped the receiver and is rushing to grab his things.

* * *

"Lucina!"

He finds his daughter screaming in the hall just outside the operating room, a policeman and a nurse talking next to her. She hears her father but continues to wail at the top of her lungs.

"Daddy, mommy is- mommy!"

He picks her up and holds her tightly. "Everything is going to be okay, it'll be alright, sweetheart," he murmurs, and he wants desperately to believe it. There's an awful weight on his chest and he feels like he can't breathe. "What happened?!" he asks the policeman desperately, Lucina crying into his shoulder.

"Mr. Everett, I presume?" the policeman asks, and Chrom nods. "Your wife is currently in surgery. She was hit by a car while crossing the street; there's witnesses that say she was trying to protect your daughter when she saw the car coming too fast."

He unconsciously tightens his hold on Lucina. He turns to the nurse. "Will she be alright?! And the baby, what about-"

"She went into trauma-induced labor," the nurse said quietly. "The doctors are doing their best to save both of them, but..."

The silence is like a blow. He sets Lucina down.

 _Robin... No! She can't be... she's not dying...!_

"Sir! You can't enter the operating room! Sir! Security!"

 _"No! Let me GO, that's my wife and child in there! Robin! ROBIN!"_

They have to drag him away, and the whole time he's shouting her name, Lucina continues to cry.

* * *

The waiting is torture. He tries his best to console Lucina, but when she finally falls asleep, exhausted in his arms, he can't help crying himself.

 _God, please, don't take Robin away from me... I can't lose her, I can't... I'll do anything if it means I can see her again, anything!_

But God never answers, and the minutes tick by, the silence broken only by his own sobs.

 _Someone, anyone... please save her, please..._

She had been fine this morning. She'd been warm and whole and smiling, and he'd made her breakfast because her back was hurting. They'd joked about whether or not she'd skipped on making the food because she was a terrible cook, and she'd kissed him goodbye as usual when it was time for him to go to work.

 _That can't be the last time I see her smile... Please!_

"Mr. Everett..."

He looks up to see a doctor exit the operating room, her scrubs covered in blood. She pulls away her mask and sighs. Her eyes are full of sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Everett. We did all we could. We only managed to save your son."

The sound that escapes him is so raw, so visceral, that it echoes back to him from the walls, a terribly wounded, animalistic cry.

* * *

"Chrom... I know I've said it already, but I'm so, so sorry."

He hardly feels a thing when Lissa embraces him tightly. He hasn't felt a thing in days, other than the pain in his heart.

"Thank you for agreeing to look after Morgan today," he says, his voice dull and raspy. Lucina is clinging to his hand, her clothes neat and pressed, though her eyes are red and her hair is only half-brushed.

"Of course," Lissa says kindly, reaching to hug her niece. "That's what sisters are for," she adds.

Since the funeral, Chrom has quit his job to look after Lucina and the new baby. They have enough money from Robin's life insurance to live off of for a good few years, at least until Morgan is old enough to start school, so it's not a problem. But while Chrom is no stranger to taking care of children, Morgan is draining him quickly. Unlike Lucina, he's fussy and cries often, and the pain of losing Robin is still so awful that Chrom is close to having a breakdown. He's found himself thinking terrible things, found himself starting not to care when Morgan is hungry or Lucina needs something.

He knows he needs help. So he's called Lissa.

"I hate to bother you," he says, sinking into a chair at the dining table. "But I'm just..."

"I know, Chrom. You don't have to say it," Lissa replies, touching his hand gently. "Don't worry about a thing today, Aunt Lissa has it all under control," she says. At that moment, Morgan starts screaming from the bedroom. "That's my queue." She hurries off to fetch him.

Chrom sighs, utterly spent. He leans back in his chair, exhausted.

"Daddy..."

Lucina is tugging at his shirt. She's holding a teddy bear up for him. As tired and hurt as he is, his heart can't help melting slightly at her earnest gaze.

"What's this?" he asks gently.

"It's Mr. Teddy," she explains, pushing the stuffed animal into his hands. "Mommy gave him to me, he makes the sad go away," she says.

 _Oh... Luci..._

He accepts the bear and kneels in front of her. "I'm so sorry, Lucina," he says, his voice trembling. "Daddy couldn't protect mommy for you."

Lucina sniffs, and though her eyes are teary, she reaches to pat her father's head.

"There, there. No more sad, daddy." But her voice breaks and they're both crying now, and he hugs her close.

"Thank you, Luci. Your mommy would be really proud of you."

"Mommy... mommy lied," she wails. "The sad won't go away! Daddy, why won't it go away?!"

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he says, over and over again, until he forgets why he's even saying it.

* * *

 _Robin... help me... I can't do this alone, I can't raise Morgan and Lucina all by myself,_ he thinks later that night. He's put Lucina to bed and Lissa left Morgan fast asleep an hour ago, but he's painfully aware of the fact that two people now depend on him for their lives, and that he's incredibly inadequate to provide for them.

 _I'm not you, I'm not brilliant or driven, and I can't even begin to think of how I'm going to do this once I have to go back to work. I'm a mess without you, I can barely take care of myself..._

He hides his face in his hands, completely overwhelmed. _I don't want to do this without you, I don't want to be alone... Why did you have to leave me?!_

He recalls her teasing smile, the way she used to huff in annoyance whenever he said something stupid, her warm brown eyes, her voice. She was more than his wife, she was his closest friend, but now she's gone, and he'll never see or hear her again.

He doesn't have long to drown in memories, however, because Morgan has begun to cry. For a moment, a terrible moment, he considers ignoring his son's cries. He thinks that life is terribly unfair, that it isn't right that Morgan should still live when Robin has died. But a moment later he hates himself for even considering it, and he hurriedly wipes his eyes and heads to the kitchen to warm a bottle.

"Morgan, I'm here, don't cry," he says a few minutes later, picking the baby up from the crib. With a practiced motion, he balances Morgan on one arm and walks over to the rocking chair in order to feed him. The tiny baby eagerly takes to the bottle, and Chrom sighs.

Unlike Lucina, Morgan takes after Robin. The only thing he can claim to have given his son is his hair color; the rest of him is his mother in miniature. It hurts for Chrom to look at that small, familiar face; it's a face he loves so much that it's tearing him apart.

It makes him feel even guiltier for having hated the child, if only for a small moment.

 _This is Robin's child... this child... and Lucina as well... she died in order to protect them both. But I... what have I been doing?_

He's only been focusing on what he can't do, on how difficult and painful everything is now that she's gone. He'd said he would be there for Morgan and Lucina, but in truth, it's been the opposite. Lucina is only four years old, and yet she's needed to try to cheer _him_ up, even though she's a small child who has just lost her mother. And Morgan... Morgan is helpless without him, and Chrom has hardly been paying attention to him at all... in fact, he's been resenting him.

 _If Robin were here... she would never forgive me_ , he realizes. _She would have beaten me to the ground until she'd slapped some sense into me. I'm not just Robin's husband, I'm the father of her children... my children... and it's my job to protect them now. I'm the only parent they have left._

He takes Morgan's tiny hand gently, and those impossibly small fingers curl around his thumb. It's like he's telling Chrom to have courage, and Chrom laughs, tears falling down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Morgan. I'm so sorry for not realizing until just now," he says, a torrent of pain and guilt threatening to overcome him. "You're right. I have to hold on. For your sake and mine, I'll hold on. It's what Robin needs me to do."

 _For you and Luci... That's why I'm here. To protect you both, in her place. After all, you're all I have left of her now._

* * *

 _ **"I'm exhausted, I'm so tired**_

 _ **My dreams make me feel smaller**_

 _ **I'm so cold, my heart is hot**_

 _ **This reality is like ice**_

 _ **But I'll hold on, onto this moment**_

 _ **I won't let go."**_


	6. Strawberry Swing

**Day 6: Domestic  
**

 **Song: Strawberry Swing by Coldplay  
**

* * *

 _LUCI, SOS, SOS!_

Lucina was trying to concentrate; she didn't have time for Morgan's dramatics. She shut her phone off and put it aside, turning back to her open textbook. It took her several minutes to find the paragraph she was on.

 _In 1673, the Anglo-Dutch war..._

"LUCINA!"

She groaned and pushed herself up from the floor.

"Can a girl have _one_ minute of silence to study for her history final?" she asked as she grudgingly opened the door to her room. It was Owain; of _course_ it was, and he looked panicked.

"Lucina! HOW CAN YOU BE STUDYING AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!"

"I'm studying because I'm a _student_ and because it's exam week next week. And _what_ are you doing here, Owain? How'd you get into the dorm?"

Lucina's younger cousin merely shook his head.

"Don't ask questions and I won't have to lie," he said mysteriously. "But if you must know, it included the scaling of a great wall while avoiding the ever-vigilant eyes-"

"Got it, you broke in," she interrupted, annoyed. "Aunt Lissa will have a fit," she warned.

Owain gulped. "P-please don't tell my mom; she thinks I'm at soccer practice."

"I can see that," she sighed. His muddy cleats had left a very visible trail all the way down the hall. "Well, come in then, before the RA comes by and asks why there's a kid hanging around."

"I'm _not_ a kid," Owain huffed, but he still accepted Lucina' invitation. "I'm fifteen, only two years younger than _you_ , Miss Genius."

"Yeah, but I'm also a college student, and you're not supposed to be here. I know you live nearby and your school is only a block away, but you really need to stop coming on campus to bother me every other day."

"I'm not _bothering_ you!" he said, clearly offended as he sunk to the floor next to her books. "I bring highly classified information that concerns all of us," he added, looking dead serious.

"Let me guess, Uncle Lon'qu threatened to take away your PS4 and you need me to stash it for you. Again."

"That was ONE time," Owain complained, but he shook his head. "Are you telling me you haven't heard from Morgan?!"

"If you mean that overly dramatic message he sent me ten minutes ago-"

"Oh my God. Lucina, don't you know Uncle Chrom and Aunt Robin are getting a divorce?!"

Lucina stared at him blankly, utterly lost. It was such a ridiculous statement that she couldn't process it at all.

"What?"

"Your dad got kicked out of the house this morning, Morgan was there. He says your mom is furious and they were yelling and throwing stuff all morning." He pulled out his phone and tossed it to Lucina. She input the password (Owain had given it to her ages ago) and quickly scrolled through the chat with Morgan.

 _-Owain, mom and dad r fighting_

 _-HELP_

 _-HOW DO I MAKE THEM STOP?_

 _-omg she just threw a glass at him?_

 _WHAT-_

 _Wats going on why r they fighting?-_

 _-idk I just walked in and they were yelling and stuff_

 _-I'm scared_

 _holy crap uncle chrom and aunt robin never fight-_

 _what did uncle chrom do?-_

 _-IDK_

 _-OWAIN MOM SAYS SHE'S GONNA DIVORCE HIM_

 _-SHE KICKED HIM OUT?_

 _-SOS! LUCINA WON'T ANSWER HER PHONE, HELP!_

 _OMW-_

"They... they're _fighting?!"_ Lucina asked, her mouth agape. "Mom and dad _never_ fight!"

"That's what _I_ said!" Owain said, gesturing wildly with his hands. "I mean, no offense, but your parents are honestly kind of disgusting. They're like the ultimate couple. I mean yeah, they're always teasing and messing with each other but it's like they're just playing, you know?"

"I know," Lucina said, still staring at the messages. "What the heck did dad do?!" she muttered to herself. A thousand different possibilities ran through her head, from forgetting an anniversary to adultery, but they all seemed just as ridiculous.

 _Dad, cheating on mom?! Impossible, no way in hell. And MOM is the one who forgets anniversaries, not dad._

"I need to call Morgan," she said, hurriedly turning her phone back on and finding her brother on speed dial.

"Put me on speaker," Owain said, and Lucina obliged.

It rang twice before he picked up.

 _"LUCI!"_ he cried. He was obviously very upset.

"Morgan, what's going on?! Owain just broke into my dorm to tell me mom and dad are fighting?!"

"I don't knowwww! I just woke up for school like usual and they were screaming at each other in the kitchen," he paused and Lucina was sure she heard a sniffle. _Oh Morgan..._ Her little brother was only 13, and he'd always been a sensitive kid.

"Did you hear anything that might have clued you in on what the argument was about?"

"No, they were just calling each other names. Mom said dad is an irresponsible idiot and dad said mom is a hypocrite. They said some other stuff too but I don't wanna repeat it," he said miserably.

"Did Uncle Chrom come back?" Owain asked over Lucina's shoulder.

"No, mom kicked him out... she threw a bag of clothes after him and told him to stay out... Luci, Owain, what are we gonna doooo?!"

"Well if I were you, I'd pick your dad in the divorce, to be hone- OUCH!" Lucina had elbowed her cousin in the ribs.

"Don't say things like that to Morgan," she hissed. "Listen, mom and dad are _not_ gonna break up, okay Morgan? They're crazy about each other, you know that."

"You weren't here," Morgan moaned. "It was awful, mom _threw_ stuff. I've never seen her so angry."

Lucina groaned.

"Listen, Mor, go to school, okay? I'm going to catch a train and see if I can get there before tonight."

"Really?! You're gonna come?!"

"Of course, I can't leave my little brother to fend for himself. I'm coming to see if I can get mom and dad to patch things up."

"Hold it, I'm coming too!" Owain said. "I've got the week off at school. I've only got soccer practice, but this is way more important."

"Is Aunt Lissa gonna let you come?" Morgan asked.

"Uh... maybe...? But I'm coming anyway!"

"I can't _wait_ to see Uncle Lon'qu's face when he finds you're gone," Lucina grinned. "Anyway, make sure you go to school, Mor. I'll see you tonight."

"Okay... you're the best, Luci. Love you."

"Love you too."

She hung up and sighed.

 _Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to get to study at all this week?_

* * *

Owain went home to grab some clothes while Lucina checked the price for tickets back home. Her college wasn't very far from her parents' house, but without a car it would likely take most of the afternoon to get there. It would have been another story if Lissa and her husband could have driven her back, as they sometimes did, but it was the middle of the day during the work week and they were probably both busy.

About an hour later she trudged down the street and saw Owain waiting for her at the usual corner. He'd showered and changed into casual clothes and was carrying a small duffel bag.

"Yo," he said, waving at her.

"Hey," she replied, and they set off toward the bus stop.

"I managed to scrounge up a bit of change, so I can pay for my own way," he explained. "Mom wasn't home so I couldn't ask her for anything."

"Did you at least leave a note?"

"Yeah, and when we're on the train I'll send her a text so she doesn't worry."

Lucina snorted. "Yeah, right. Aunt Lissa is gonna freak."

"Okay, but this is important, Luci! I don't mind being yelled at, this is family! FAMILY!"

"Alright, alright, I get it. No need to shout," she winced.

"So, what are we gonna do when we get there?" he asked as the bus pulled toward the curb.

"Huh?"

"I mean, what's the plan of action?"

"Why would I know?!"

"You always have a plan!"

"Not this time. I just don't wanna leave Morgan alone at home when things are this bad."

"I know you love Mor, but that seems pretty rash for you... unless..."

Owain gave her a rather sly look.

"Are you homesick?"

"What?!"

"You _are_ ," he said, grinning. "Ha HA, imagine that, the great Lucina, Uncle Chrom's pride and joy, Aunt Robin's little genius go-getter, _homesick!"_

"Sh-shut up!" she said. She would never admit he was right; she _was_ a little glad to be going home, even if it was only because her parents were threatening to split up.

* * *

Robin couldn't remember the last time she and Chrom had fought this badly. They had known each other their whole lives, been childhood friends and neighbors since birth. At some point friendship turned seamlessly into love, and they started dating while in high school. Chrom was a year Robin's elder, so he graduated one year before she did and started college just one city away; not long after, Robin discovered she was pregnant.

It had been the scariest moment of her life. They'd always been extra careful with birth control, and Robin cursed her awful luck. She knew there was always a risk, but she never expected it to happen to her, especially not when she'd just been accepted to so many good colleges, most of them with full tuition paid.

She kept her secret to herself for a long time. She was torn between quietly getting an abortion without telling anyone, which seemed the logical choice, and her emotional reluctance to pretend nothing had happened. It was Chrom's child, after all. Chrom, the boy she'd loved for as long as she could remember, the boy who had played at swords and dolls with her, the boy who had snuck sweets from his house to hers when she was in a bad mood. He was the boy who had hugged her close and covered her ears whenever her parents fought, and the one who was always there to wipe her tears away. He'd been her best friend, her confidant, her other half. How could she quietly terminate his child without even telling him? How could she make a decision without him?

But while she worried and fretted, the time to get an abortion was running out. With less than a week left, she finally gathered her courage to go see him; whatever they decided, she wanted them to figure it out together.

When she arrived, unannounced, outside his dorm, he happily came out to meet her. But as soon as he saw her drawn, pale face, he seemed to understand that she had something important to talk about. He took her hand and led her to a bench, his expression concerned.

"Is everything alright?" he'd asked before she could say anything.

"...Is it that obvious?" she said, fidgeting with her hands.

"It is to me," he said, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Want to talk about it?"

She took a deep breath to steady herself. "Chrom, I... I'm... I'm pregnant." The silence that followed was unbearable. She couldn't bear to look at him, and she had to fight back the thick knot in her throat that was threatening to drive her to tears.

The sound of a strangled cry startled her, and she looked up to see huge tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"Ch-Chrom?! What the-?!"

"I'm so-sorry," he hiccuped, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm just- overwhelmed, I don't know... I don't know what to feel!"

"God, no don't cry! I'm the one who feels like cr-crying!" she said, and before she knew it they were both in tears, his arms tightly wrapped around her waist.

"What do you want to do?" he asked after they'd calmed down a bit. His face was buried in her hair, her cheek pressed to his chest.

"I... I don't know. I'm supposed to be going to college next year," she said quietly. "And you only just started... We're too young to have a baby."

"Yeah..."

"And I don't know that I'm cut out to be a parent... I mean, I'm awkward and only good at studying... what if I turn out to be a terrible mom?"

"You won't," he said, but he let her continue.

"You don't know that... besides, what are _our_ parents going to say? Can we support a kid on our own, without even having a college education?"

"Hold on, I can quit school. But you should go, Rob," he said, pulling away slightly to look at her eyes. "You've always wanted to go, and you're so smart, it'll be a waste if you don't."

"But you shouldn't quit either!" she said. Before he could argue, she shook her head. "Wait no, we haven't even decided if we're _keeping_ the baby yet... but we're already talking about what we're going to do as if we've already decided we will."

"Right," he sighed and rested his chin on her head gently. "Maybe this is irresponsible, but I think you should choose. To be honest, I'm kind of happy... but it's your body, after all. I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to do."

"You...you're happy?"

"Mm," he said. "It's kind of hard to explain... but even though I'm kind of freaking out, there's this warm feeling... I don't think I ever realized just how much I love you, Rob."

"Chrom..."

"But, because I love you, I want you to be happy too. If you really want to abort, I will hold your hand the whole way through. If you want to go through with it, I will do everything to make sure you won't have any regrets. I'll make sure you go to college. I'll be a stay-at-home dad, or take the baby to class with me if I have to, whatever it takes."

The thought of him sitting in a lecture, earnestly taking notes with a baby sling over his shoulder made her laugh.

"Really?" she asked, smiling into his collarbone.

"Really. So the question is, Rob, what do you want? Don't worry about anything else, just tell me what you want, from the heart."

"I..." she hesitated, searching herself. But when she did, she found she'd already made up her mind. "I want to start a family with you, Chrom..."

He was quiet for a moment, then hugged her so tightly she thought she might break.

"My roommate is gone for the weekend," he whispered.

"O-Oh."

He loved her like he never had before. He kissed her throat, the nape of her neck, each shoulder, every bit of skin he could reach. They were gentle kisses, each one sending a wave of warmth through her. Her fingers wound in his hair as he traced a slow line from her ear to her to the hollow at her throat with his tongue, her heart pounding in her ears. He ran his hands down her back, around her waist, pulling her close and laughing softly whenever she shivered at his touch.

"You're taking your time today," she noted quietly, her face burning.

"I'm treasuring every moment with you," he replied seriously, kissing her nose and her eyelids. His thumb brushed against her breast, very _very_ lightly, and she gasped slightly. He kissed her deeply, for as long as he could. She was breathless when he pulled away, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

"You're teasing me," she realized. His eyes were shining.

"A little, maybe. It's adorable," he muttered into her ear. The vibrations of his voice made her shudder. He nibbled her earlobe slightly, and she made a soft whining noise in response.

"Stop it, I can't anymore," she moaned, clinging to him tightly. He gently pressed her down against the bed and kissed her forehead.

"I'll stop... on one condition," he said, running his fingertips softly over her thigh. He was grinning, but it was a warm, loving smile, with just a hint of mischief behind it.

"What is it?" she asked, too flustered to rebuke him. He caressed her cheek and kissed her again.

"When you turn eighteen... marry me, Robin."

She hadn't had to think twice about the answer.

* * *

Chrom couldn't believe how stupid he'd been. It was such a dumb thing to let happen, and as he stormed away from the house on foot, his anger quickly dissipated, only to be replaced by guilt.

 _She's right, it was my fault,_ he gritted his teeth. _It's just been years since we've fought about anything, I got carried away._

As kids, they'd gotten into plenty of fights with each other. Robin was no pushover, especially not in a fist fight, and they often had to be pulled apart by their parents, covered in bruises and scratches. But they always made up and were back to being the best of friends within hours, and it was the same as they got older and eventually started a family.

In fact, it was Lucina that made them stop arguing so violently. From the moment she was born, he and Robin fell so deeply in love with her that it seemed to make their relationship far stronger than it already had been. Contrary to all the warnings they'd received about children making their parents' lives hell and destroying young marriages, Lucina only made Chrom and Robin grow closer, and that didn't change when Morgan arrived four years later (just in time for Robin's graduation from college), or for the thirteen years they spent married after that. They argued from time to time, but never at the same intensity as they had as kids or teenagers. In fact, they hardly ever _fought_ ; the worst altercations they had could only be called mild disputes.

So when they'd had a disagreement in the kitchen that morning and Robin told him he needed to get his act together, he wasn't sure where all the anger came from. He just suddenly felt like she was one-sidedly blaming him and before he knew it he'd responded with a rather aggressive and cruel remark.

And then the ten year old Robin broke loose and he'd been pelted with every object she could get her hands on.

"How dare you?!" she cried, furious tears in her eyes as she lobbed a wooden spoon at him.

"OW! Watch it! What the hell are you doing?!"

"This is all your fault, and you think it's okay to say something like that?!" she shouted, and he only narrowly dodged a mug. It shattered to pieces behind him.

"You always blame me for everything!" he responded angrily. "Not everything is my fault!"

"BUT THIS IS, AND YOU. ARE. A HUGE. JERK!"

"GODDAMMIT ROBIN, YOU HYPOCRITE!" She paused, a terrible, pained expression on her face.

"What?" she asked, so quietly that anyone who didn't know her might have thought she wasn't angry. Chrom heard the danger but was too upset to heed his instincts.

"It's true!" he shouted, throwing caution to the winds. "You always conveniently forget that you're human and make mistakes too! You always crucify me about mine, but what about yours, huh?! You think you're a perfect mom?!"

"Get out."

"What?"

"Get. Out." she repeated, her eyes glinting dangerously.

"I'm not going anywhere-"

"GET OUT, YOU IRRESPONSIBLE IDIOT, YOU... YOU SAD EXCUSE FOR A FATHER!"

"WHAT?!"

"I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN! GET OUT, _GET OUT!"_

Frankly, he fled for his life.

* * *

Lucina and Owain were on the last bus to her neighborhood when Owain suddenly grabbed Lucina's sleeve.

"Hey, isn't that your dad?!" he said, pointing out the window as the bus pulled at a stop. She craned her neck to get a good look and saw a man sitting on a low wall, his head in his hands.

She stood up suddenly. "Excuse me! We're getting off," she said loudly to the bus driver, who was about to start driving again. She pulled Owain to the doors and mashed the button repeatedly until it opened. "Thank you!" she called hurriedly as she jumped onto the curb.

"Luci, stop pulling, you're choking me!" Owain complained, but she ignored him. They ran all the way back up the street toward Chrom, breathless.

"Dad," she wheezed. He looked up, obviously confused.

"Lu-Lucina?! What are you doing here?! And Owain, what the-"

Owain coughed and massaged his neck. "Hey Uncle Chrom," he said.

"We heard about the fight," Lucina said, without prompting. "Morgan is freaking out, we got on the first train back."

Chrom groaned. "I didn't even notice that Morgan was there... I never meant for either of you to get involved."

"Is it true? Are you and Aunt Robin getting a divorce?!" Owain asked.

"What?!" Chrom looked genuinely shocked. "Of course not, why would-" but then he smacked himself in the forehead and muttered to himself. "Of COURSE they think that, she _said_ it, after all..."

"So it's true?!" Lucina said, aghast.

"No, no!" her father said, waving his hands hurriedly. "We won't get a divorce. Probably," he added in an undertone. "Your mom was just really upset, she always says whatever she wants when she's that mad."

"Always?" Owain asked, confused. "You two _never_ fight!"

Chrom chuckled. "We don't fight _now_ , but we did when we were young."

"I don't remember that," Luci frowned.

"Before you were born," he explained. "Your mom and I argued about _everything_. And I don't mean the kind of arguments you saw growing up. I'm talking really nasty fights; I can't count the times she beat me to a pulp as a kid," he shuddered.

"I can't imagine you guys so much as yelling at each other," Owain said.

"Having Luci made us grow up a bit, I guess. But I did something dumb today, and we both sort of... snapped. I've been wandering around for hours. I dunno how to go back and face her."

Owain and Lucina exchanged a glance.

"Dad... let's go home," she said, taking one of her father's arms.

"Yeah, Uncle Chrom, the sooner you get it over with, the better," Owain said, taking the other.

"How do you know?" Chrom asked bitterly.

"Mom hasn't been mad at you in years, but that doesn't mean she hasn't been mad at _us_ ," Lucina grinned. "And we learned a long time ago that the best way to get back on her good side is to apologize like your life depends on it."

"Which, if your stories are true, it probably does," Owain added. "But c'mon, you two are crazy about each other, she's probably feeling just as bad about the whole thing now."

* * *

Robin _did_ seem to be feeling rather strongly at the moment, but as far as Morgan could tell, those feelings seemed rather... murderous.

"M...mom..."

"What?" she asked sharply, cutting a cucumber with short, violent strokes. Morgan felt kind of bad for it.

"Are... are you really gonna divorce dad?" he asked, his voice slightly trembling.

She made an exasperated sigh and threw down her knife.

"No," she said, wiping her hands on a towel. Morgan was about to express his relief when she strode over to the fridge and said, "I'm going to kill him."

 _Eeep! Hurry, Luci, it's getting scarier!_

* * *

Lucina unlocked the front door.

"Wait, hang on a minute-" Chrom said desperately, but Owain merely pushed him forward.

"C'mon, Uncle Chrom, you can do it."

"Mom! Morgan! I'm home!" Lucina called as soon as the door was open. Morgan immediately came sprinting down the hall and threw himself at his big sister.

"LUCI! THANK GOD YOU'RE BACK," he cried, and Luci hugged him back.

"Hey Mor, we brought a souvenir," she grinned, pointing at Chrom. Morgan went pale.

"No! DAD, RUN FOR IT!" he said and burst into tears.

"What the-" Owain began, but he was cut off by a strangled noise behind him.

"Well, well, look who decided to come back," came a cold voice, and they all looked to see Robin glaring at Chrom like she was looking at a bug.

"R-Rob..."

"Kids, upstairs," Robin ordered, and no one even considered disobeying. They scrambled down the hall as fast as they could.

* * *

"So," she said, crossing her arms, anger seething through her.

Chrom seemed to be at a loss. He shuffled slightly on the mat, looking a bit like a boy caught doing something he shouldn't have.

"I told you to get out," she said sharply.

"Robin... Look, I didn't mean anything of what I said today," he began. She clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"It's going to take more than that to dig yourself out of this one, Chrom," she warned.

"I know, I messed up. It wasn't even a big deal, I just... I don't know, I felt like you were blaming me. I already felt bad enough about it, and it didn't help that you pointed it out. I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you."

 _Hmph._

"Is that all?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"No. I'm sorry, Rob. I was out of line, calling you..."

"A bitch?"

"Yeah, that," he winced. "I really didn't mean it, I promise. And I didn't mean what I said after either. You're right, I'm an idiot and a jerk, and I deserve to be kicked out."

She sighed and rubbed her temples. "I'm not going to kick you out," she said flatly.

"Huh?"

"I'm still mad, but I went overboard too," she admitted. "You were right, I always rub all your mistakes in your face. And... I shouldn't have thrown stuff. We're not kids anymore."

"Rob..."

"I'm... I'm sorry. I always feel like I'm not a good enough parent... and I end up letting that anxiety get the best of me whenever you mess up even a little. It's like, I feel like less of a failure knowing I wasn't the one who messed up," she said quietly, her stomach aching. The more she spoke, the worse she felt.

"You're not a failure, Robin," he said. He walked toward her and took her shoulder gently. "You're a great mom. You've always been a great mom; look at Luci, she's at college a whole year ahead of her age group, and Morgan is the sweetest kid you could ask for. They both take after you, and no one knows better than me how hard you work every day to be there for them."

"I can't help it, sometimes I just feel... inadequate," she said. Without thinking, she clutched at the front of his shirt, tugging at it nervously.

"That's a good thing," he said, taking her chin. "If you thought you were the best, you'd never get better. But I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it; you're a wonderful parent. Me on the other hand, I have some work to do, right?" He grinned and kissed her cheek.

She couldn't help it; she laughed. "You're an idiot. Just go pick the dumb present up already, it's still another week to Luci's birthday, you have plenty of time to make up for it. Forgetting to pick up a gift is hardly-"

 _"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"_

They both jumped at the sudden shout and looked up to see Lucina standing on the stairs, glaring at them.

"You two had such a big fight over something so... so _stupid?! You scared Mor half to death! I TOOK A TRAIN TO GET HERE, AND I HAVE EXAMS NEXT WEEK THAT I SHOULD HAVE BEEN STUDYING FOR!"_

"Lucina-" Chrom began, but Lucina was already stomping down the stairs, pulling her bag over her shoulder.

"I'm going back, I can't _believe_ this. IF I GET A B ON THIS HISTORY EXAM, I'M NEVER SPEAKING TO EITHER OF YOU AGAIN!" she shouted, and slammed the door behind her.

Chrom and Robin stared at the door in silence for a good minute.

"I think we fucked up, Rob," he finally said.

"I think we _really_ fucked up, Chrom."

They caught each others' eye _._

"Terrible parent truce?" she asked.

"Terrible parent truce," he nodded, and they both hurried after their daughter, throwing the front door open.

"LUCINA, WAIT! WE'RE SORRY!"

Owain and Morgan could hardly breathe; they were laughing too hard at the top of the staircase.

* * *

 _ **"Now the sky could be blue**_  
 _ **I don't mind**_  
 _ **Without you it's a waste of time**_

 _ **Could be blue**_  
 _ **Could be gray**_  
 _ **Without you I'm just miles away**_

 _ **Without you it's a waste of time."**_


	7. The Answer to My Question

**Day 7: In a Better Life  
**

 **Song: Q &A by Kishi Bashi  
**

* * *

 ** _It was the middle of the night. She wasn't sure what had woken her, but when she turned over, she was surprised to find that the other half of the bed was empty. She sat up, confused._**

 ** _"Chrom?" she called, her voice tenuous in the darkness._**

 ** _There was no reply. She hurriedly got out of bed and pulled on her robe, her bare feet sinking into the thick carpet._**

 ** _He wasn't in the washing room, or in the hallway. He didn't seem to be in any of the rooms adjoining theirs, and she was considering going downstairs to see if he'd gone to the kitchens when she saw the faint flicker of candlelight from underneath the library door. She pushed it open._**

 ** _"Robin! You scared me!" he said, his face pale. He was sitting on the windowsill, his robe draped over his shoulders like a cloak._**

 ** _"You left me alone," she said. She didn't mean to sound so bitter, but the castle still didn't feel like home to her. If he wasn't there, she couldn't calm down._**

 ** _"I'm sorry," he said, and he had a genuine look of concern on his face. He held out a hand for her and pulled her into the alcove with him. "I couldn't sleep, and I didn't want to wake you," he said, making room for her. She sat opposite him, pulling her knees up onto the bench and hugging them to her chest._**

 ** _"Did you have a nightmare?" she asked._**

 ** _"No, I was just thinking," he mused, staring out the window. Below them, the palace gardens stretched out as far as the eye could see, a muddle of dark green and shadow in the moonlit night._**

 ** _"About what?"_**

 ** _"Nothing really, just... thinking," he said, shrugging. "I was remembering my sister."_**

 ** _"The one who left?" she asked. She had never met Princess Emmeryn; she had left Ylisstol long before Robin had arrived._**

 ** _"Yeah. I haven't written to her in ages, and now that I'm married, I was wondering how things are going in her life."_**

 ** _"She married into a Valmese nation, didn't she?"_**

 ** _"Yeah, but like you, she was sent away. I haven't seen her in a few years. I hope she's not unhappy," he added wistfully. Robin felt her heart ache painfully._**

 ** _"Does... does that mean you're unhappy... with me?" she asked, her voice small. He quickly turned to her, horrified._**

 ** _"No, of course not!" he said, taking her hand. "I know we've only been married for a little while, but of course I don't feel like that." He pressed her fingers to his lips._**

 ** _A wave of relief spread through her. She nodded, her cheeks warm._**

 ** _He laughed at her expression. "Gods, I didn't know you could look so cute," he teased._**

 ** _"Sh-shut up," she said, hiding her face in her knees._**

 ** _"Haha, you're adorable, Robin," he said, interlacing his fingers with hers._**

 ** _"A-am not..."_**

 ** _"Are so."_**

 ** _"I'll curse you," she said, looking up at him, but he was smiling, a mischievous glint in his eye._**

 ** _"Well, normally I'd take that kind of threat pretty seriously from a Plegian... but seeing as I didn't turn into a frog last night..."_**

 ** _Her face burned with the memory of his touch, and he reached to pull her close._**

 ** _"I said it then and I'll say it now," he whispered into her ear. "I don't regret marrying you, and I never will." He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, each tattooed cheek, and finally her lips._**

* * *

Robin suddenly woke with a start, her heart pounding and her face flushed. It took her a moment to realize that she was alone, in her tent, and that it had all been a dream.

 _Another strange, vivid dream_ , she sighed, covering her eyes with the back of her hand. _How many does this make now?_

She'd lost count. Even as an amnesiac, she knew this couldn't be normal. If they weren't such strange dreams, she would have assumed they were her forgotten memories, resurfacing in her sleep. But although they were incredibly detailed and intense, nothing in them made any sense.

 _And they're all about Chrom... what am I, a pervert?!_ she groaned to herself, ashamed. But the more she tried to forget, the more she remembered that younger version of him caressing her cheek, kissing her brow, holding her tightly against him.

 _No, no no no no! Stop, stop that right now, Robin!_ She slapped her cheeks lightly, trying to get a grip on herself. _He's the commander, and you're his tactician. You only just met him a few months ago, and having these kinds of thoughts about him is wildly inappropriate._

She stared up at the canvas of her tent.

 _So why do I keep dreaming about him?_

* * *

"No, going through the hills will take us longer-"

"But if we take the valley path we'll be wide open-"

"What if we just went around the mountains-"

Robin stared thoughtfully at the map spread out on the table. Everyone seemed to have different opinions on how to proceed through Plegian territory, but something about the whole plan of attack was bothering her.

 _Why does it feel like we've already been through this area before?_

She traced a line from their current camp through the valley and found that she got a bad feeling when she considered crossing through there. _An... ambush, I think_... She looked over toward the pin that had been placed to indicate the mountains and was surprised when she got a similar feeling of dread.

 _There too? But... how would I even know that?_

She chewed her lip pensively, wondering whether she should speak up.

"Robin, what do you think?"

 _Is it worth heeding this gut feeling? Or am I just imagining things...?_

"Robin?"

"Huh?" She was startled out of her thoughts and saw that everyone at the table was staring at her.

"Welcome back, Robin," Chrom smiled at her. Frederick clicked his tongue in annoyance and a few of the others chuckled. Robin immediately blushed.

"S-sorry, I was just thinking," she murmured sheepishly.

"Don't apologize, that's what we keep you around to do," Stahl said kindly. "Did you come up with another daredevil strategy?"

"Well..." She looked around at all the familiar faces gathered around the table, making her mind up quickly. _I guess there's nothing for it._ "I don't think we should use any of these routes," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

Frederick rolled his eyes. "Robin, perhaps _you_ have some kind of teleportation magic at your disposal, but the rest of the army needs to _walk_. Would you please try to make sense?"

"Hold on, Frederick, let her explain," Chrom said. "Go on, what do you have in mind?"

"This is probably going to sound insane... but I get a bad feeling about crossing these mountains no matter which path we take. There's something... wrong about them."

"You can't possibly be insinuating that we should make a decision based on something as unscientific as a _bad feeling_ ," Miriel scoffed.

"I dunno, gut feelings are sometimes the only thing that keep you alive out there on the field," Sully said, chewing on a piece of jerky as she spoke.

"Yes, but that's on the _field_ ," Frederick said, shaking his head.

"I think the coat-wearer has a point," Panne chimed in, crossing her arms and indicating toward Robin. "Instinct exists for a reason. If she says she does not like the feel of this place, then I say we look elsewhere."

"Everyone, calm down," Chrom said firmly. "Robin, do you really think we should avoid this area?"

"Y-yeah," she nodded, unable to catch his eye. "I know it sounds crazy, but I just can't shake the feeling that we'll be making a mistake, crossing here."

He nodded. "Do you have an alternative?"

"Well... what about this ravine?" she asked, pointing at a dark feature on the map. Several people hissed.

"No way, that's way more dangerous," Ricken complained, and a few others shared concerned looks.

"We'll be picked off one by one from the cliffs," someone said, and Sumia shivered.

"It'll be a flurry of arrows..."

"But... I don't get any bad feelings from this route," Robin insisted. "I think the Plegians will assume we'll take the high ground, so they'll prepare for us up there. No one will be watching the bottom of the ravine."

"Robin, I know you're looking out for us, but we can't be sure we'll be ambushed at all," Stahl said slowly. "And if you're wrong, we'll have less of a fighting chance in a ravine with archers surrounding us than in an open space where we can fight back..."

"Stahl is right," Frederick said immediately. "Choosing the ravine is foolish, milord. We can't trust something as baseless as instinct for this," he addressed Chrom.

Chrom looked down at the map, clearly thinking hard.

"I think we should go through the ravine," he said finally.

For some reason, Robin felt her heart leap at his announcement.

* * *

 _ **It took Grima a while to realize he was missing. She paid it little heed at first; the boy was left to his own devices when she was away. There was little danger to him if he was Marked. The Risen and Grimleal had orders to leave him be, and there were too few independent humans to pose a threat. The greatest danger was posed by wild animals, but Grima always swept the area they were staying in before leaving him alone. He seemed to have a good head for directions, even at a young age, so he rarely got lost, even when he strayed.**_

 _ **But that night, he didn't return to the ruins. Grima left his food out, expecting him to come running when his hunger got too great. When he didn't, she told herself to ignore it; he had probably fallen asleep somewhere or run away. Wasn't that what she had always hoped for anyway?**_

 _ **Still, he didn't return, and Grima felt herself growing anxious. Finally, she set out to look for him.**_

 **Stupid boy,** ** _she thought angrily._** **What do I care if he's gone and hurt himself? What do I care if he's gone?** ** _But she continued to search._**

 ** _Two days later, she came upon a small group of humans, hiding in the woods. She wasn't interested in them at the moment, so she planned to spare them._**

 ** _Then she caught a familiar scent in the air and she saw Morgan, knocked unconscious and tied up among their belongings._**

 **Slavers,** ** _she realized._**

 ** _Her fury was insatiable as she killed each and every one of them, spilling their blood mercilessly across the forest floor._**

 ** _When they all lay dead at her feet, her coat spattered in gore, she tore the cords from Morgan's small body and hoisted the boy over her shoulder. He stirred slightly._**

 ** _"M-mother?" he murmured groggily._**

 ** _"I'm here," she said, and she had to resist the urge to kiss his hair reassuringly. It was a very Robin-like thing to do, after all._**

* * *

As Robin had said, the four day trek through the ravine went smoothly, though not without major complaints by several members of the army. It was with heightened nerves that the troops followed her orders, only to find that no one was waiting to ambush them at all. A later sweep of the area by the pegasus knights showed that the Plegians had been amassing on the far side of the mountains, but that none had been stationed to prepare for their unexpected crossing. In one move, they'd completely avoided an unnecessary altercation and come into Plegian lands without so much as a scratch.

It wasn't the first time that Robin had miraculously saved them from a difficult situation, and Chrom was relieved that he'd decided to trust her intuition. Whatever her instincts actually were, they were uncannily accurate and had become indispensable to the Shepherds.

As he walked through the new camp that evening, he absentmindedly slipped his hand into his pocket and his fingers brushed against the ring he'd taken to carrying with him since he'd had it made, several weeks ago. Though he'd fully intended on giving it to her as soon as he could, his chances to speak with her alone were rare and he never seemed to be able to work up the courage to propose when he had one. He couldn't count the times he'd marched up to her tent, preparing himself, only to have his strength desert him as soon as he caught sight of her face. Those warm brown eyes took all the breath out of him each time, without fail.

 _Stupid, so stupid!_ he bemoaned, hiding his face in his hands as he reached his tent. _Why is it that I can face a Risen like it's nothing but I can't even look Robin in the eye without my knees buckling?_

He sat on the edge of his bedding and pulled out the ring, turning it over in his hands.

It had been a gradual process, but looking back he supposed his fate had been sealed from the moment he'd found her lying in that field. He'd merely been curious about her, at first. She was mysterious and strange, having lost all her memories, but from that point forward, she'd continued to astound him. She was a brilliant mage and a tactician of amazing skill. Her determination and work ethic were second to none, and the light in her tent often burned late into the night. She spent the little spare time she had improving her swordsmanship and reading up on new types of magic, and she quickly grew to be trusted and respected among his men. Chrom found himself irresistibly drawn toward her, first as a friend, and then as a man.

 _I have to give it to her,_ he told himself, but instead of getting up and going to search for her, he sighed and returned the ring back to his pocket, throwing himself back on the bedding. _If only I wasn't such a coward,_ he thought bitterly.

* * *

 ** _"Chroooooom, my feet are killing me," she whined, throwing her arm over his chest. He groaned._**

 ** _"Don't remind me, I'm trying to pretend I don't have feet at the moment," he said tiredly. As soon as they'd gotten home to the castle, they'd collapsed into bed, too exhausted to even undress._**

 ** _"I don't think we practiced enough," she said, her voice muffled in the crook of his arm._**

 ** _"If anything, I think we practiced too much," he replied, wincing. "I have blisters on my blisters."_**

 ** _"But I still stepped on your feet..."_**

 ** _"And I still stepped on yours, so we're even," he said, ruffling her hair gently._**

 ** _"I hate weddings," she muttered mutinously. "I hope Olivia and Ricken step on an acorn together."_**

 ** _He tried but failed to hold in his laughter._**

 ** _"Don't say that, we're getting married too, you know. Do you want people to wish_** **us** ** _ill?"_**

 ** _"That's not gonna happen, because if there's even a_** **hint** ** _of a dance at my wedding, I'll set the orchestra on fire."_**

 ** _"In that case, I'll do you one better and just outlaw it to begin with."_**

 _ **She laughed.**_

 ** _"Can you imagine Maribelle's face if we told her that dancing was illegal at a royal wedding?!" she giggled._**

 ** _"I'd rather not. We'd both be dead in minutes," he chuckled._**

 ** _"Still, I think I'd rather chance her fury than have to face this kind of foot pain ever again," Robin said, wincing._**

* * *

Robin was still half asleep as she set about her duties that morning. For some reason, her feet had been killing her since she'd gotten out of bed, so she wasn't paying much attention to what was going on around her. As she made her way tiredly to the bathing tent, she bumped into someone, hard.

"Ow!"

"I'm so sorry!" she said, hurriedly, but when she looked up she saw the last person she wanted to see.

"Ch-Chrom...?"

He looked equally startled to see her.

"R-Robin..."

They stared at each other awkwardly. Though she couldn't remember the details, she was sure she had dreamt about him again, and she was too self-conscious about it to face him.

"Sorry, I'm in a hurry," she muttered, avoiding his gaze, but he followed and grabbed her wrist before she could make a break for it.

"Wait! I..."

She was heavily aware that several people were staring at them.

"Chrom..."

"W-what?"

"You're about to walk into the women's bathing tent," she said in an undertone. He immediately let go of her wrist and blushed.

"S-sorry!"

"R-right... Uhm, I'll... see you around," she said quickly, taking her chance to escape. She hoped he hadn't noticed how red her cheeks had grown when he'd taken her hand.

* * *

 _ **Her eyes scanned the ground below her thoughtlessly, thinking it might be nice to travel a bit to the north for the afternoon, when a solitary figure moving on the Wild caught her attention. It was moving too quickly for someone on foot, and Robin could tell that it wasn't a god from its aura. Her curiosity peaked, she swept downward, her wings stretched out to catch the updraft.**_

 _ **She was wondering whether or not to reveal herself when she recognized the shape of a white horse. Seated on its back was a single rider, cloaked. As she approached, the figure looked up. She immediately felt her heart soar. Though they were older now, she would recognize those blue eyes anywhere.**_

 _ **"Chrom!" she cried, her feathers falling away as she fell to the ground and rose to her full height. He pulled the reins and leapt from the saddle, his momentum causing them both to fall over and tumble down the hill until they came to a stop at the bottom, breathless.**_

 _ **"I came back," he said, grinning boyishly. He was pinned beneath her weight and he reached up to take a strand of her hair. "It seems I love you after all, Robin." He kissed the blood red strands wound in his fingers.**_

 _ **Her heart felt like it would burst. She began to laugh and buried her face in his shoulder.**_

 _ **"You came back," she repeated, taking in his all too human scent. "Will you stay?"**_

 _ **"Yes. The rest of my life is yours, if you'll have it."**_

 _ **"If you'll give it," she replied. "But a human life is short. Are you sure you wish to spend it with me?"**_

 _ **"A thousand lives would mean nothing if I had to spend a single moment more without you," he said seriously. "You've been all I've thought about for the past year."**_

 _ **"The love of a human and a god will be difficult," she warned. "You may never see those you love again."**_

 _ **"I've made my peace and said my goodbyes."**_

 _ **"You may regret choosing to live among spirits."**_

 _ **"I don't care, I've been regretting leaving you behind all this time. It's too late for me now," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I'm already in love with a goddess, and I would rather die now than have to give her up."**_

* * *

The further they pushed into Plegian territory, the stronger Robin's deja vu became. Other than the dreams and strange gut feelings that based her decisions when crafting her strategies, the addition of several new recruits came as a shock. When Tharja joined their ranks, for example, Robin almost cried. There was something intimately familiar about the sinister, dark haired woman, and she had to stop herself from running to embrace her when she saw her for the first time. At first she thought it might be because Tharja had known her in the past, before the amnesia had set in, but the sorceress insisted she'd never met Robin before (though she wasn't against the idea of getting to know her now).

A similar, though less powerful, feeling swept through her when they recruited Libra and several others. It seemed to Robin as if she were meeting old friends that she hadn't seen in several years, though none of them seemed to know her at all.

It was a baffling experience, only compounded by the fact that her dreams continued to get more and more vivid, without any sign of stopping.

She began to keep a written record of them. She wasn't sure what drove her to it; perhaps she just wanted to see if she could make more sense of them if she had them documented on paper. But though she did her best to write them down as accurately as possible, they remained impossible to understand. Several of them took place in worlds she could barely comprehend, and much of the terminology that made sense when she was asleep was completely lost on her once she regained consciousness. Those particular dreams were almost impossible to write down, and when she looked back through them she hardly understood what she'd been trying to convey.

 _They can't be something I just dreamt up on my own,_ she thought, frustrated. The dreams were too coherent for that, as if she was watching a series of lives unfold in front of her in pieces. They took place in different worlds, different times, and often had different people in them, some of which she later realized seemed to be people she knew from the Shepherds, though they weren't quite the same either.

But no matter how different, every single dream had something to do with herself... and with Chrom.

Before she knew it, she had an entire journal dedicated to her dreams, and still they would not fade.

* * *

 _ **Robin followed behind the three of them, watching wistfully. The little boy was no longer a baby, and he clung to his father's hand tightly as they prepared to cross the street. Lucina, as always, triple checked the road before she turned to Chrom.**_

 _ **"It's alright now, daddy," she said, clinging to the straps of her backpack. He smiled at her.**_

 _ **"You're so responsible, Luci," he said, patting her hair gently. Lucina beamed and the three of them began to cross. Robin, out of habit, checked one last time that no cars were coming before she hurried to catch up.**_

 _ **"Daddy, why Lushi go?" Morgan was asking sadly.**_

 _ **"I have to go to school, Mor," she said, not unkindly. Lucina loved her little brother, and she hated leaving him behind more than he knew.**_

 _ **"When Mor go?" he asked, pouting. Chrom squeezed his hand. "Three more years," he said. "Besides, wouldn't you rather stay at home with me? Isn't that more fun than boring school?" Morgan didn't seem to be able to answer, but Lucina nodded fervently.**_

 _ **"Yeah, school is dumb," she huffed. "I wanna stay home with you and daddy."**_

 _ **"Sorry Luce," Chrom said, grinning. "We all have to do our time."**_

 _ **"Mor wanna go with Lushi," Morgan whined, and Chrom picked him up.**_

 _ **"C'mon, Mor, do you really wanna make Lucina sad when she has to go all alone to such a boring place?" he asked, tapping the boy's nose. "Look, she's gonna cry," he said, and Lucina frowned.**_

 _ **"Am not!"**_

 _ **"Whoops, never mind," he laughed. They came to a stop; they'd arrived at the school gate.**_

 _ **"Good morning, Mr. Everett," the gatekeeper said, smiling at the small family.**_

 _ **"Good morning," Chrom smiled in return.**_

 _ **"Hello, Lucina. Are you ready for the first grade?"**_

 _ **"No, Mister," she sighed, looking back at her father wistfully. "Daddy... do I have to?"**_

 _ **"Sorry Luci, I can't do anything about it. Kids have to go to school," he said, putting Morgan down and crouching down next to her. "Tell you what, I'll make you your favorite cake when you come home if you promise to be a good girl and behave."**_

 _ **"Lemon cake?!"**_

 _ **"Sure," he said, ruffling her hair. She hugged him tightly.**_

 _ **"Yay! Okay, I promise I'll be good," she said, and Chrom kissed her forehead.**_

 _ **"That's my girl. Go show them just how smart you really are," he grinned.**_

 _ **"Right, just like mom!"**_

 _ **Chrom's eyes grew soft and sad. "Right. Just like mom," he repeated.**_

 _ **"Okay, see you later, daddy. Bye bye, Mor!"**_

 _ **Robin watched as her daughter ran onto the playground, leaving Chrom and his son behind, waiting for her to disappear among the other children. She watched as her husband picked Morgan up and hoisted him over his shoulders.**_

 _ **"Alright, let's go make your sister that cake, hmm?"**_

 _ **"Cake!" Morgan giggled, and Robin watched them walk back the way they came, wishing with every fiber of her incorporeal being that if she could just reach out, she might be able to touch them.**_

* * *

"Robin?"

There was no reply, and Chrom wondered if she hadn't fallen asleep. It had been a long day, and she'd looked exhausted when she finished her afternoon sword practice.

"Robin? Are you there?" He peeked into her tent and found that she wasn't. He was about to leave when he realized she'd left her candle burning.

 _Crap, that's dangerous,_ he thought, and though he would normally never enter a woman's tent without her permission, he hurriedly stepped forward to blow it out.

He was about to do so when something on her table caught his eye. Next to a pile of maps, there was a small, handwritten book lying open with a quill between the pages. On the open page, his own name stood out, several times.

 _Huh?_

Curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned forward to get a better look. There seemed to be a series of journal entries, though many of them didn't make any sense to him. The ones that did, however, all seemed to be about Robin... and about himself.

 _"Spent the night with Chrom again. His father wants to send him to the provinces, but he said he won't go without me. The government thinks it's a bad idea, sending a Plegian princess among the people, but Chrom won't have it. He says we have to be seen together if the alliance is ever going to mean anything substantial,"_ he read. _What in the world?!_

The next entry was just as bizarre.

 _"The boy looks more like Chrom every day. The other Robin doesn't like it, it upsets her, but I think I'm glad about it. The more he reminds her of his father, the safer he is."_

And the next-

 _"We're preparing for the wedding. Maribelle is teaching me how to dance, but I'm still terrible at it. I don't think I'll ever make a good queen, and she seems to share that conviction. At least Chrom is glad I'm not stepping on his toes for now."_

He was about to read another when a sudden sound startled him.

"Ch-CHROM?!"

He whipped around to see Robin standing at the opening to her tent, clutching her coat in her hands.

"What are you doi- _HAVE YOU BEEN READING MY JOURNAL?!"_ she cried, her face blanching.

"Robin! I- I saw that you left your candle lit and..." but he knew it was no use trying to talk himself out of it. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have, but I saw my name and I-"

He didn't manage to finish his sentence. She hurled her coat at him and in the confusion pushed him from the tent.

"GET OUT!" she shouted, and Chrom thought there was a note of panic and despair in her voice.

* * *

 _ **The sound of her cell phone ringing startled her awake, and she was too groggy to check the caller ID before she answered.**_

 _ **"'Ello?" she muttered, and a loud, happy whoop came through the line.**_

 _ **"Mom! Oh my god, you won't believe this! I GOT THE INTERNSHIP!"**_

 _ **Robin blinked sleepily and turned to see that the alarm clock read 2 AM.**_

 _ **"Lucina, do you have any idea what time it is?" she groaned.**_

 _ **"I know, but I just got the email and I had to tell you! I'm the youngest applicant they've ever accepted! Aren't you proud of me?!"**_

 _ **"Ecstatic, honey," Robin yawned. Chrom stirred.**_

 _ **"Waz goin' on?" he slurred, and Robin half-heartedly gave his shoulder a pat.**_

 _ **"Is that dad?! Can I tell him?!" Lucina squealed, and Robin surrendered her phone without a second thought.**_

 _ **"Lucina?" he said. Robin turned her back to him. She quickly lost track of the conversation and was almost back to sleep when he nudged her awake again.**_

 _ **"Your phone," he said.**_

 _ **"Ugh, it's too late for this," she complained, flinging the phone aside. She thought she heard it hit the floor but she was too tired to care.**_

 _ **"Not for college students, it isn't," he chuckled. "Don't you remember all those late nights?"**_

 _ **"Chrom, half of those late nights were because Luci wouldn't stop crying," she said.**_

 _ **"Oh... right."**_

 _ **"And the other half were because you were having a breakdown as a result of Luci's crying," she added.**_

 _ **"**_ **_Ah, I remember the suffering like it was yesterday," he muttered. "Why does it seem like not much has changed?"_**

 ** _"Because we're parents," Robin murmured into her pillow. "And we've been together for most of our lives."_**

 ** _"Now that... I wouldn't change that for the world," he said, kissing her shoulder._**

* * *

For the next few days, she seemed to be avoiding him. Every time he tried to corner her, she managed to slip away, and it was driving him mad.

 _I just want to talk!_ he lamented as she managed to escape him yet again after dinner. He was curious and confused about her journal, of course, but mostly, he couldn't bear not being able to speak to her. Camp seemed much less lively without her presence, and even though she dutifully continued to take part in war meetings, she never stayed behind to chat like she used to.

He'd had enough.

"Robin."

She froze, her hand still clutching her quill. She'd been working on a diagram, sitting on the grass outside her tent when Chrom seized his chance.

"O-oh, Chrom... Good afternoon," she said faintly, looking up at him.

"We need to talk," he said, trying to use his sternest tone.

"Oh."

"Please," he added, and he realized he sounded slightly desperate. He held a hand out for her, hoping that she would accept. She stared at it, and then at him.

"Alright..." she said, closing her eyes, her mouth pressed into a thin line. She looked like she was girding up her courage for something she fully expected to regret.

* * *

They walked through the woods in silence, the cold autumn wind blowing through the trees. The spindly branches looked forlorn and bare without their leaves, and the ground beneath their feet crunched as they walked. It was still early, but the sun was setting earlier than usual, casting long, dark shadows over them. Robin shivered in the cold and pulled her coat tightly closed.

"Sorry, I know it's chilly," Chrom said, breaking the evening stillness.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," she grimaced.

He looked away for a moment, unsure how to begin.

"About the other night... I wanted to apologize for going in your tent without permission," he said.

Robin winced.

"Right... apology accepted," she said quietly. She could feel the topic of her dreams coming up, and she wished she could disappear.

"And about your journal..."

 _Here it comes..._

"I'm sorry for reading it. No matter the reason, it was your private journal, and I had no right looking through it. I hope you'll forgive me," he said, looking pained.

She blinked, confused.

"You- You aren't going to ask about... what was written?"

He looked uncomfortable. "I can't lie and say I'm not interested in knowing, but it's none of my business. I hate not being on good terms with you; I think it wouldn't have mattered if you were plotting out my murder in detail in there, I still wouldn't have wanted to lose your friendship."

"Chrom..."

"I guess that sounds kind of stupid, doesn't it?" he asked, coming to a stop beneath a tree. "But that's how much you mean to me."

She took in his face, slightly flushed in the cold, and his earnest, kind blue eyes. For some reason, she was reminded of her dreams again, and she decided in that moment that she was tired of hiding them.

"They're dreams," she said suddenly, and he furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Huh?"

"In the journal. I've been writing down my dreams in it."

"Your... dreams? But I-"

She blushed slightly. "You're in them. Almost every night."

She'd never seen a man's face go so red. It was a startling change, and he stumbled back against the tree trunk, completely at a loss.

"Wh-what?"

Seeing him so flustered only made her feel more self-conscious about what she was about to say, but she forced herself to keep going.

"I... I don't know why," she said, hugging herself. "Since I lost my memories, I keep having these strange dreams about you, and most of them don't make any sense to me. I thought they were just normal dreams, at first, but there's some continuity to them, like a story I occasionally hear a part of. And they're so vivid... sometimes I wake up and I'm so confused... I think I'm going insane, Chrom," she said, her worst fears more tangible by the fact that she'd finally spoken them aloud.

He didn't say anything.

"It-it's not only the dreams," she continued miserably. "Being here, being a part of the Shepherds, feels like I'm trapped in yet another dream. I have this overwhelming sense that something isn't right, that I've already been through this war. And some of the people here... I feel like I've known them for years, even when we've only just met. I felt it with Tharja, with Stahl, with Miriel... with hundreds of others. Especially... especially with you," she said, her voice almost inaudible.

Slowly, very slowly, he slid to the ground. He raised his hands, which were trembling, to his face, and let out a strange whining sound. It wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting.

"Chrom?!" She knelt at his side, terrified that he'd been injured or hurt somehow, but he merely shook his head.

"No, I'm... I'm alright," he said, his voice strained. "I just..." He paused and took a deep breath. "It's just... for some reason, when I looked at you just now... I felt like I understood what you meant, like I'd been hit by something... Since I met you, something about you has been..."

"Familiar," she finished for him.

"Y-yeah..."

"What does it mean?" she whispered.

"I... I don't know," he replied.

The wind whistled through the branches, a quiet, otherworldly song that filled the silence between them with anticipation.

"Robin... do you believe in past lives?" he asked suddenly.

"Past... lives?"

"In Ylisse, we have a superstition... that when we die, our souls merely move to another life and start again."

"You... you think my dreams are past... _lives_?!"

"I don't know... if neither of us is going insane... and there really is a reason for this deja vu... then maybe that reason is because in another life- no, in many other lives- we've already met, and we've already lived through all this."

"But... some of those dreams take place in worlds completely different from ours..."

"Maybe not all worlds take the same path," he said, and he looked up at the sky as he spoke. "Maybe there's countless worlds out there... We may not even be dealing with _past_ lives; maybe the future and present aren't as linear as we think they are. I mean, what would we understand? We're only humans, after all."

"Then... why doesn't everyone experience this?"

"I don't know. Maybe you're special, or maybe your amnesia has something to do with it."

She closed her eyes, thinking.

 _If those dreams are all other lives... and if this feeling I've been getting... this feeling of experiencing things that are strangely familiar, is all because I have memories of those lives where I've already experienced these same moments..._

"I still don't understand," she said softly. "Even if that's true... why are all my dreams about you? If all these lives are different, why does your presence never change?"

"I... I think I know why," he said, his voice thick with emotion, and he reached into his pocket. "Robin... give me your hand."

She did as he asked, but before she could ask what he was going to do, he'd pressed something small into her palm. It was a ring, small and silver, and something about it sent a shock of familiarity through her.

"Chrom...! This...!"

She'd seen this ring before, she'd worn it once. Around her neck, and on her finger, in several different dreams. And even once she'd lost it, in one lifetime, her son had found it.

"I've been meaning to give this to you for months," he said, and though he was still red, his voice sounded slightly stronger, more resolved. "I love you, Robin. I've loved you for as long as I've known you, and I think, maybe, if your dreams are any indication, I loved you before that."

Her heart caught in her throat.

"Chrom..."

"Please, Robin, this is torture," he groaned. "I can't take this anymore. I feel like I've been waiting an eternity to tell you how I feel. Maybe I have. I don't know what happened between us in your dreams, if things worked out or not, but at least here and now, in this life, I know that I love you with everything I am. Robin... will you-?"

He didn't get a chance to finish, because she threw herself into his arms.

"Yes, yes! A thousand times yes!" she cried. She kissed him, and a moment later he responded, pulling her tightly against him. They pulled apart to breathe, only to kiss again and again, each one more full of longing and a desperate familiarity than the last.

Her heart was swollen and full, overrunning with feelings that she wasn't sure all belonged to her. But for the first time since he'd offered her his hand, that day in the field, she didn't care if they made sense. At last, in Chrom's arms, everything felt right.

At last, she was home.

* * *

 _ **"You are the answer to my question**_

 _ **You are my accomplice in a crime**_

 _ **You are my wing woman**_

 _ **And did I mention**_

 _ **We were together in another life**_

 _ **In that dreaming, you probably were my wife."**_

* * *

 **Notes:**

A song is written with many instruments in mind, and they all come together to create one sound that harmonizes together. That was the feeling I wanted to convey for this collection. And like the "Thousand and One Arabian Nights", I always wanted to tell a story within a story. Think of Robin's dream sequences as epilogues for each part of "The Autumn Wind's Song," and the seventh story, this story, as the framework that ties them all together.

Thank you so much for reading this series. I really enjoyed participating in Chrobin Week this year, and I hope reading these stories was as much fun as it was to write them. I have a million feelings about this ship, and even if I lived a thousand lives myself, I don't think I'd ever be able to fully convey them. Perhaps one day I'll write a full-length work for them, but first, I'll have to finish my current Azurrin fic, _Currents Through A Flame_.

Here's to seeing you again next year!

-Kairi


End file.
